


Java

by CallieAnne



Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-30
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-01-10 15:25:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 27,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1161299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallieAnne/pseuds/CallieAnne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aoba, working at the the quaint Ol' District Coffee Shop, has his world turned upside down when individuals on their own separate journeys enter his life. Was it really the coffee that brought them all together, or maybe something more? (DMMd Coffee Shop AU)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Blue

**Author's Note:**

> This idea has been driving me crazy for about two days that I just had to write it all down.  
> I wanted to bring some fun into reading just like the game does, so YOU get to decide Aoba's fate and read (or not read) whichever "route" you want!  
> This first chapter is like the common route so no major plot...yet.  
> The following ones will be each of the boys' own stories. Their stories do NOT interact with one another. Since each "route" will be much longer in story length, it will take some time for me to write each one so please be patient.  
> Thank you so much and have fun playing DMMd, Coffee Shop fanfic edition!!

I always smell like coffee beans.

 Well, when do I not? I _do_ work at a coffee shop, so it’s only natural for all of my clothes and my own body to reek of the ten different kinds of coffee beans we serve here.

The Ol’ District Coffee Shop was started by my current boss, Haga. He’s a good man and knows how to run a business. The only reason that _I_ work here is because my Granny doesn’t want her 23 year old grandson to be mooching off of her all day long.

It’s the only homemade coffee for miles on this tiny island, so the popularity has gotten huge. I’m not sure what the big deal for this shack is. We aren’t even that big of a shop. We have no fancy signs or broadcasted advertisements except for the one right above the door which has the name and a fluffy dark blue Pomeranian dog on it (I still have no idea what that’s about, but Haga likes the puppy being our “mascot”).  We aren’t a chain restaurant, either; the shop only exists right here in the eastern section of Midorijima. It really is a simple place: a few tables with two or three chairs each accompanying them line the walls opposite of the ordering counter. We only have a few coffee makers, and not even the automatic ones - we pour water in and a 12-cup amount of coffee brews in the pot afterwards. The most high-tech thing around here is our new drive-thru window. Haga insisted it we get one for people that were on-the-go. That’s what I operate since I “know how to use my social skills,” according to the boss. The drive-thru is super easy to manage. The customer can simply roll up to the speaker box, I take their order, and voila! The coffee is ready just a few feet ahead at the window. Since most everyone here walks and/or does not own a car, the few cars that do come around aren’t much of a hassle.

However, since we’ve gotten this installment, I’ve been encountering some rather shady customers. I plaster on the smiliest expression that I can muster up and work up the charm. Apparently it works. As soon as I open my mouth with the customary “Hi, welcome to Ol’ District. What can I get you today?” phrase, they’ll stutter around and completely forget what they wanted to order. They’ll gaze at me in awe like I’m some kind of grand piece of museum art. Every single one of them compliments how smooth and angelic my voice sounds. I’ve gotten all kinds of requests: voice recordings, meetups, continuing to talk for long periods of time. Some have even ordered multiple cups of the same kind of coffee just because they were infatuated by my tone. The strangest part? The only people that do this are males, and it creeps me out big time.

Thankfully I don’t have to endure these confessions every day. Because the place is so small, it’s just me, Haga, and Mizuki, our other employee. He’s been around for as long as I can remember, and he still teaches me some tricks on how to make the best cup of Joe. He acts more like an assistant manager than anything, and it’s just kind of natural for me to respect him as some kind of boss.

My shifts are usually in the morning until mid-afternoon.  Sometimes I have to leave earlier than that if my headaches get bad enough. My head always hurts during that time. On the outside, I'm super peppy for my job, but on the inside, there's a jackhammer clobbering my brain. When I was a stupid rebellious teen, I developed chronic migraines. My guess is it's because I did some reckless stuff back in the day and didn't take care of myself. Doctors couldn't and still can't pinpoint what's going on in my skull that creates such a pain. The pain fluxuates from tolerable to absolutely unbearable, and it is unpredictable as to when they will strike. Granny, who was a former pharmacist, prescribes me different drugs to take every day. They work, but not in the way I wish they did. 

I hastily throw on the black apron uniform we are required to wear. On the left side, right over where my heart is, is a rectangle pinned to the cloth announcing the word “Aoba.” Unfortunately, I have to take an extra step for my uniform than the other two. My hair is so long that it’s a necessity to pull it up in a ponytail. I position it behind my head in the center, but it still tugs on my scalp pretty tightly. Why was I born so tender-headed?

This ponytail has given me more shit than my voice. Label after label is thrown at me by customers, calling me things like, but not limited to, “pretty girl,” “young lady,” and “ma’am.” Either these people are all blind or puberty has failed me in my life, because I am for certain that I neither  have a chest that resembles breasts nor do I have a feminine face.

Aside from the misgendering (accidental or not, I’m not sure), I have to brag: I make _the_ best coffee that anyone has ever tasted. My memory is quick and I’m already a fast learner, so the recipes are a walk in the park. Haga gives me praise all the time for my work ethic and how I’ve never given one customer a bad experience. Even Mizuki offers up some kudos now and then for me when I create harmony on a busy work day. I know this place inside and out, and there isn’t a moment that I don’t enjoy. I like being a people pleaser. Just knowing that I made someone’s day by whipping up a steaming cup of caffeinated goodness for them is satisfying in itself. My life is good, and it is good to me.

That is, until _he_ showed up.


	2. Red

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My mind told me no but my heart told me yes because kouao is the air I breathe.  
> Rating changed to explicit because you know what's up.  
> I'm tracking "#fic: java" and "#hellamilk" on Tumblr.  
> Hoping you enjoy this Japanese super nerd's chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it.  
> Much love to all and thank you for the support!

Ah, here he comes again...with them, too. They're all here for the fourth time this week.

By “he,” I mean the cockiest man that I have ever had to serve coffee to, and by “them,” I mean his annoying fan club.

Koujaku and his little glitzy arm candies.

This guy has _got_ to be doing them favors. I can see why they are attracted to him - he's handsome and tall and actually really nice, I’ll give him that. However, he’s a complete womanizer and acts as if he’s the knight in shining armour. He strides in the shop with a girl or two and buys drinks. That’s it. It’s become an everyday thing for him, too. Of all the places he could be taking his swooners, he brings them here. They’ll gather around a table and talk in the loudest voice that is socially acceptable, completely disregarding that there are other customers in here that _don’t_ want to hear all of the cooing about him. Granted, he does give us a lot of business considering he comes in a pack. But geez, do I have to put up with his arrogance just to make a couple bucks?

I remember the first time he came in here. It was so out of the blue; I’ve never seen him on this island in my life. He kept eyeing me and leaning over the counter while I was taking his order, speaking very slowly and purposely taking his time, even subtly hinting to wanting to take me out sometime. I could tell in an instant he was trying to hit on me, probably because my casual ponytail gave him the wrong idea. Many men that come in here automatically assume I’m a woman because of my hair and insist on flirting with me. It was difficult to not roll my eyes. I saw right through his facade. Once I started speaking, he was taken aback by how deep my voice was. However, me being a guy didn’t stop him from continuing to come waltzing in here and turning on the charm. I had no idea someone could be so dense.

On this particular Thursday morning, he had his arms full with two girls that must have stepped out of some neon magazine. They clung to his arms and were absolutely enchanted by him, even though he wasn’t doing anything the least bit spectacular.

“Morning, Aoba!”

I suppressed a sigh, prepping myself for what was to come from the group today.

“Good morning. What can I get for you three today?”

“Koujak-ee!!” One girl squeaked. “We’ll buy your coffee today!!”

_You’ve got to be kidding. Why me? What have I done to deserve this?_

“You can get whatever you want, Koujaku!” The other chimed in with a nasally voice.

_Just keep calm. Be friendly, Aoba. They’re still your customers..._

He laughed heartily. “Why, thank you, ladies. How have I gotten so lucky as to be in the company of you two?” The girls squealed with excitement and tightened their clutch on his arms, snuggling their heads in the crook of his neck.

_Kill me. Just kill me now._

“Alright, Aoba. I’ll take a small black coffee, and these two lovely girls with have small lattes with extra milk.”

“Oh, you know just what we like!! You are so sweet, Koujack.” One pinched his cheek while the other twirled a finger in the slim ponytail that slithered down his shoulder.

“Sure. I’ll have that right out.” I forced the words out of my mouth. He paid me 57 cents extra and told me to keep the change, which was a grand ordeal for the women because of course anything he does is just _so outstanding_.

As I prepared the ingredients, I couldn’t help but peek through my peripheral vision at them. They’d situated themselves at the table by a window - Koujaku in the middle, as expected. Boisterous laughter erupted from the party with jumbled conversation. In earshot, I was able catch some information about this man. He traveled back and forth from the mainland to the island with his mother often. Then something about an “accident” and I could’ve sworn I heard that it caused his mother’s death. I pitied him. It must be awful losing a parent when you’ve had them around your whole life. At least for me, I didn’t know my parents growing up. I guess the saying “better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all” isn’t necessarily true…

I wiped off the sweat forming at my hairline with my shirt sleeve after finishing up the order. I placed them on the countertop and called out to them. They picked up the coffee, sat back down, chatted some more with chuckling here and there, the usual routine. But just as the group was walking out the door, Koujaku turned his head around and thanked me.

But it wasn’t the gratitude that got to me. He added a wink, probably what he used to close the deal with women.

I felt the heat rise up to my cheeks. Out of anger or shock, I don’t know. The one thing I do know is that Koujaku really pushes some of my buttons, and the worst part is I know he’ll be back tomorrow doing it all over again.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Friday morning. Haga asked me the night before to open the shop since he would be running a little late. The rickety sign above the door swung gently on its chain suspensions from the breeze, the infamous mascot’s little pink tongue sticking out. Although the pup didn’t really relate to coffee, it added a nice touch. The fluffy dog made me smile; I especially needed something to cheer me up this morning because my head has been pounding ever since I woke up.

It had not been 20 minutes after opening the door that Koujaku showed up. The first surprise of the day had been himself, and only himself. There was no swarm of girls around him, not even one escort. That, to me, was the first sign that it was not going to be a typical day with this guy.

“Good morning…” The suspicion was evident in my voice. “If you’d like some coffee, it might take a few more minutes because the first batch isn’t-”

“You interest me.”

 _What?_ Just yesterday, he was so invested in those obnoxious girls that I was only his drink provider. Well, the wink didn’t help anything, but I thought that was him just trying to show off. I stopped my coffee-preparing actions and blinked a few times.

“Um, excuse me?”

There were so many consistencies with Koujaku that I hadn’t paid much attention to until now. First of all, he always wore some shade of red. Long or short-sleeved, sunny or rainy day, it didn’t matter. Second, he wore the same pendant necklace with everything. It was a brown twine-like string with a red-tinted metal bird at the end. If I had to guess from the shape, it must be a sparrow or maybe a cardinal. Maybe it had some significance to him, I never bothered to ask. Also, the entire right side of his face was concealed by his lengthy dark bangs, so half of his expression was always unknown.

“Aoba, I’ve come here every day for months, and you haven’t been phased by me once.”

“Er...I don’t see why. Is there a reason I should be?”

His eyes darted to the ceiling for a quick second, like he was trying to find that reason, and locked with mine. “You know, I feel such a sense of ease when I’m here. Mostly because of you.”

My brow furrowed in the middle. But where do I come in the picture with all of this? “I’m sorry, I’m still not following.”

His mouth curved up in a smile followed by a quick breath out from his nose as his laugh. Just then, the first real customer came through the door, and Koujaku whipped his head around to see for a moment. He lowered his voice. “Explaining here might not be the best idea,” A pause. “Meet me at building #4 in the Benishigure District tonight at 8. My treat.”

My head involuntarily started to nod at him, and just like that, he was out of the shop. I couldn’t form words, much less think them up. Some regular that only ever talks to me about his drink order now wants to meet up about who knows what. I felt a nervous pit at the bottom of my stomach, but I don’t know what for. The Benishigure District isn’t a terrible neighborhood, and Koujaku hasn’t given me any reason _not_ to trust him so far.

Koujaku and his invitation and all of his confusing comments wouldn’t leave my mind for the rest of the day. I’ve always been the best coffee maker on the island, but today, I got almost every order wrong.

 

~~~

 

Passing through the residence was no easy stroll. I got looks, stares, maybe even one or two scowls. I didn’t exactly blend into the crowd. I’ve never had a reason to visit this place, so it was a surprise for both the locals and myself. The whole area has a traditional Japanese vibe to it, and my blue shirt and jeans don’t compare to the kimonos and yukatas.

Building #4 was a carbon copy of the adjacent buildings: brick. Red, of course. Judging by the erosion on the bricks, the Benishigure district has been around for quite some time. These couldn’t be houses because they were tall in stature and there were so many of them lining the street. These must be apartments.

Apartments…so I must be where Koujaku lives.

I stared at the door in front of me, feeling like I was staring more into the face of death. I didn’t know what awaited me: a confrontation, an attack? I calmed my paranoia with deep breaths. My knuckles rapped on the wood three times.

A few moments passed by before Koujaku appeared, still wearing the clothes he wore at our meeting this morning. He grinned a sideways smile as soon as he saw me, and leaned against the doorframe. Even then, my height only peaked at his shoulders.

“Good to see you made it, Aoba. You don’t look so pretty without that ponytail you wear at the coffee shop.”

I instinctively rubbed the back of my neck and averted my eyes downwards, now self-conscious about my ocean blue hair. Great. Now my nerves have turned into flat-out embarrassment.

“Care to come in?” The man gestured his hand inside, not even noticing the humility I was feeling or my flushed face. Holding myself up, I walked past him through the door.

The streets were just like the interior of his home. Most of the furnishing was either red or cream colored. A few Chinese lanterns hung from the ceiling, and various knick knacks and paintings that featured flowers like cherry blossoms.

"I've made tea, if you'd like some," he threw the words over his shoulder while walking to, what I presumed to be, the kitchen. Not wanting to disturb his home, I simply followed his footsteps to the next room. The table already had a tea set together. I quietly found the nearest chair and sat down. Koujaku poured my tea, then his own, and joined me at the table.

It was quiet for the first few minutes. He didn't seem to mind, he casually drank his tea. I didn’t even touch my cup. I was the one over thinking and creating an awkward aura in the room. Do I speak? Demand answers, let him do the talking? Stay, leave, what do I-

A laugh interrupted my thought process. Koujaku’s head was tilted downwards, shaking left to right with his eyes closed, and was _laughing._  

"What?! What's so funny?"

"Even away from work, you never cease to intrigue me, Aoba."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Anger began to bubble up inside me.

"Your body is so honest. You’re nervous, I can tell,” he set his cup down to hold his hands up like he was being arrested or something. “Nothing to be afraid of here, I promise.”

 _What’s this guy playing at?_ This morning, he said some pretty weird stuff and told me to come here so he could elaborate on it, yet he’s talking about everything but that. I straightened myself up in the chair, trying to be aware of any nervous habits that I was doing and trying to make them stop.

“What you said in the shop this morning… I want to know what you meant.”

“Ah, that. Of course.” As if he didn’t know why I was here. Unbelievable. “What was it that I said? Oh, right. How the shop makes me a comfortable person beca-”

“Because of me.”

“Yes, because of you.”

“Well, tell me already because you’re freaking me out!” I snapped at him.

He took a breath in and closed his eyes. “Do you go out a lot, Aoba? How many friends do you have?”

I had never thought about how many true friends I had. I worked most of the day and just went straight home. I wasn’t much of a partygoer, anyways. “Um, I don’t know. My boss, my co-worker. My Granny, if you count her.”

Koujaku let out a single burst of laughter from the shock of hearing about my lack of a social life. “Really now? The two people you work with and a relative are your only friends?”

“I don’t go out much, is that a problem? What does that have to do with anything?”  
“Well, Aoba, I have a lot of friends. I naturally draw people in and easily hold conversations, so making friends and connections is not difficult for me. They think so highly of me because of my personality.”

I listened quietly, nodding at appropriate moments. “Do you mind that?”

“No, not really. As you can already tell, I never have a quiet moment to myself. Always people around watching me. When people watch, you have to put on a bit of a show, kind of like celebrities have to. It’s not always a bad thing, but it can get exhausting because it’s not who you really are.”

So that’s what this is. People _expect_ a suave, charismatic Prince Charming from Koujaku, so what they want, he gives them, whether he likes it or not.

“But I don’t have to do that around you. Yes, I know we’ve never had a real conversation until today, but I never had the chance to have one with you. Those girlies can get jealous in an instant whenever I focus my attention on someone other than them - boy or girl.” With each sentence, his attitude began to shift ever so slightly. He wasn’t as confident or stand-offish. It was almost as if he was shrinking.   
“All I’ve ever done was given you coffee.”

“It’s not about the coffee!” He sounded exasperated. “Don't get me wrong, those women are lovely company and I’m a hairdresser for most of them. But...it’s not me that they want. It’s the smooth character that I put on for them. I want to make them happy, and girls love that kind of attention, so I just go along with it.” He leaned in closer to me. “Aoba, you…you don’t ask me to pretend. I’m relaxed around you. You’re the only person that’s ever lets me do that. A-And I….”

Now he was stuttering on his words, searching all around the room as if the walls had the answers. He was fidgety, swallowing often, all of the signs that there was something personal that he was trying to tell me. Was I not the nervous one anymore? My thumbs twiddled idly in my lap as I was piecing the puzzle together in my mind. After an awkward moment of silence, Koujaku finally spoke.

“I-I think that’s what’s making me fall for you.”

No. No, that’s not what I just heard. There’s no way, no way he could have just said what I think he said.

Falling for me? Does he mean, like, _in love_ with me? That’s what falling for someone means, right? But he’s so wrapped up in women. Of course he is. That’s him.

Or maybe it’s not. Maybe he doesn’t give a shit what the girls think of him. He did say he plays pretend with them.

I let out a nervous chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. “Koujaku, I know you like to be flirty, but c’mon. You don’t have to do that to-”

“Aoba.”

His sharp tone forced my words that were beating around the bush to a halt. He wasn’t looking at me or anything in particular. His gaze was off in the space right in front of him.

Have his cheeks always been this pink?

“You don’t even know me.”

“But...I feel like I have for a very long time. I can’t.. I don’t know how to describe it.” His jaw clenched ever so slightly, making his facial structure even more defined. “My mother was in an accident when I was younger, and after that, I just lost it. I didn’t know who I was anymore. All I ever did was conform to the person that people asked for. It was miserable. I stumbled upon your coffee shop one day and I-I just felt this sense of comfort of who I truly am. So I kept coming back each day to confirm that this was what I was feeling. The other employee there - Mizuki, right? Sometimes I’d go in and he’d be working instead of you, and I would feel nothing. It was only when you were there. This hasn’t ever happened to me before. It’s you, Aoba. It has to be you.”

My insides were twirling in knots at this point. I swallowed the lump forming in my throat. This was far more than I expected to hear when I came here. I understood the words he was telling me, but I wasn’t quite registering his feelings with my own. I don’t know. I don’t know what I felt for this guy. All I’ve ever viewed his as was a self-centered customer, but things can change once you know the truth.

“Koujaku, I’m-”

“You don’t have to give me an answer now!” he blurted out immediately. “You don’t even have to feel the same way I do, but…” He trailed off for a moment. His knuckles were white from gripping to the side of his chair as he pulled himself together from the nervous wreck inside of him. “C-Can I...can I kiss you? Just so I’ll know once and for all. Please, for me.”

My love life has never been a fulfilling one. Sure, I’ve had a few kisses here and there from junior high games of Truth or Dare, but those hardly amounted to anything. I can’t say that I’ve ever had a girlfriend or boyfriend. It’d just be a kiss, that’s all. Hell, maybe it might not work and he will leave me alone about it afterwards.

I gave a small nod in his direction, and I could hear the sigh of relief coming from him. I closed my eyes for I don’t know how long; the moment wasn’t coming soon enough. His chair squeaked from under him as his inched his body towards me.

“Wait!” I called out, tensing up. “Just...don’t do anything weird, okay? One kiss, that’s it.”

A small chuckle.

“Got it.”

My breath hitched. I hadn’t kissed somebody in years. I forgot what I was supposed to do when someone kissed you - touch them, stay still? Oh well, I guess I’m going to find out.

I could feel his presence in my personal space, so close that we could share our hot breaths. He was there, I knew he was, but he wasn’t kissing me just yet. His lips were so near. Maybe he’s deathly afraid just like I was and was planning what to do. I had to be patient because this was all on him.

Finally, he jolted forward and closed the space before us.

This soft warmth on my mouth was unlike any other kind. It was better than any of those sloppy kisses I ever had to endure from the terrible days of Spin the Bottle. I instantly eased myself to make the both of us more comfortable. My hand naturally lifted up to his shoulder. I could feel that he was moving with the kiss, so I mimicked the motion.

It was over before I knew it. He pulled himself away, but kept his forehead resting on mine. The two of us, mostly me, couldn’t believe it just happened. However, I wasn’t satisfied.

Something deep down within me told me I needed this. I needed so much more of this.

Koujaku murmured my name to me, and I could tell he was going to continue saying something, but I didn’t care what it was. I was aching. My name coming from his voice drove me over the edge. I pushed myself up to close my lips on his once more.

Koujaku gasped an audible grunt from my sudden move, but I knew he wanted it, too. He was the one that began to deepen our kiss, our mouths opening more and more to take each other in. The sucking noises were drowned out by our various moans and longing breaths. My tongue traced his upper lip, begging for permission. Catching the hint, his had found its way to mine, circling with electric shocks pulsing through us with each second gone by.

Then he began to wander. My cheek, my jawbone, everything was his terrain to explore. I clenched my teeth together as he trailed down to the ivory skin of my neck. I never knew how sensitive a neck could be until he unlocked that pleasure inside me. Thoughts turned to mush, all reasoning was gone, and the sheer feeling of-

A booming knock from the front door. All movement stopped.

“Yo, Koujaku!” It was a large pack of rowdy men from outside. “Get out here, man! Let’s hit the town!”

I was a deer in the headlights. My breath quickened faster than the whole time Koujaku and I were in our kiss. I looked at Koujaku, searching for some kind of answer as to what we should do. He was eyeing the entryway, obviously pissed off from the interruption. _Do something, idiot!_

But Koujaku didn’t move from our position. He didn’t get up to answer the door. He simply bit down hard right in the middle of my skin.

The palm of my hand flew over my mouth to prevent me from shouting. “Mmph!! Koujaku, what do we-”

“Ignore them.”

“What?!”

“I’ve done this before: if you ignore them, they go away.”

“But-”

He raised his head up to look at me in the eyes point-blank. I was scared of getting caught or having the heat of the moment die out, but I knew from the passion in Koujaku’s eyes that he wasn’t going to let that happen.

A smile creeped its way onto his face to ease the air. “Come on, let’s find someplace that isn’t this noisy.” He took my hand rather forcibly to lead me out of the kitchen to the adjacent room.

His bedroom. The bed was gigantic, probably fitting three people across. The decor matched the rest of his house with birds and flowers.

I walked through the door after him. No time was wasted for him. He used my body to close it behind us, slamming me into it, and continued to kiss me heavily. I was equally as involved in a moment’s notice. My arms hooked around his neck for support, my fingers slowly traveling up to twine in his hair. His had found their way at the hem of my shirt, tugging with great subtlety.

He walked backwards, taking me along with him and still not breaking our kiss. He flopped himself onto the bed, sitting so I towered above.

I’m never one to initiate things, much less in a romantic situation. I get flustered too easily and am afraid of screwing it all up with my lankiness.

However, hormones make you do some crazy shit.

I couldn’t reach him by just standing, so I shoved myself into his lap, both knees on either side of him. His hands wouldn’t stop grazing over my stomach and hips, causing me to twitch under his touch. To aid him, I yanked my shirt over my head to reveal my bare chest.

“Aoba, Aoba, if you don’t want this, any of this, please…”

“It’s fine. It’s okay.” The intensity of his yearning stare soared into being flooded with desire, and his tongue graced over my collarbone as he sunk his teeth in and sucked, hungry for the taste of my skin. My hips rolled against his, a certain heat rising in my lower half. He must have picked up on my movements, and sighed happily. He dextrously undid my belt and slipped his hand down my jeans. I knew I was already getting hard, and it’s nothing I’m ashamed of, but just knowing that he can feel me almost embarrassed me.

Groans from the back of my throat escaped me, acknowledging the sensations. The strain of my hardening cock against my underwear and jeans was driving me wild, so a quick thrust towards Koujaku specified that to him. I needed to be released.

He pulled my cock from out of my boxers, toying with my tip. My embrace around him tightened as my noises were much louder. Koujaku wrapped his slender fingers around my shaft and gently moved up and down.

“Ahh, aah…!” I muttered.

Ecstasy pulsed through my veins. Even the slightest touch anywhere on me was amplified.  I couldn’t help myself from bucking my hips as his pace quickened. He was so _good_ at this even though he’s never been with another man. He was so calm about it too, unlike me who was becoming a tangled mess. I needed to reciprocate, but I didn’t know how. Do the same thing he’s doing? Take control and dominate? Ideas clashed back and forth but none of them were set into action. I bit my bottom lip to stifle my moans and whines, but to no avail.

“Aoba,” he purred. His large hand captured my waist and pushed me to the side so I landed on the sheets on my back. My arms landed limply above my head. He loomed over me, and the more I looked at him, the sexier he became. Curling his fingers around my jeans and underwear, he jerked them down and off of me, tossing them to the floor.

I was bare. I was naked. I was exposed and vulnerable under the man that was so desperate to ravish me.

I wanted him to do just that.

I watched him carefully as he pulled his own shirt off. My heart had to have skipped some beats, and a rosy color filled my cheeks at the sight of him. He was so fit with each muscle defined perfectly - his arms, his pecs, his abdomen, all the way down to the strong V lines near his hips. His bird pendant rested in the middle of his ribcage. But the one thing that stood out to me the most were his bold tattoos. A black tribal design snaked around his right shoulder and cascaded down his side, while at the other shoulder peeked blooming lotus flowers. I’d never noticed them whenever he came to visit the shop, but I guess I couldn’t have since they were hidden under his shirts the whole time.

He seized the opportunity of my half-gaping mouth to pry my bottom jaw open with his fingers. My tongue swirled around them, making them moist with my saliva. It must have been a turn-on for Koujaku because he reacted. Discreetly, but still reacted.

Once they were almost dripping with saliva, he pulled them away. I thought it was just for his pleasure, but I soon found out that it was to be for me. I felt something wet near my ass.

No way.

He slipped his fingers inside of me. I yelped at this new sense of arousal.

“Gahh!! Koujaku, n-no, mmph!!” My insides tightened around his exploring finger, and a smirk widened on his lips.

He hunched himself over me, speaking right into my ear. “Why? Your body is so honest, it’s begging to differ…”

A flare of irritation rose up. Now he’s twisting his words from before into something entirely different. I had to show him and myself that I’m neither weak nor going to crack under the pressure. My free hand took hold of the back of his head and pushed it to me, forcing our lips together. He gladly accepted my offer, kissing me and fingering me faster.

My entrance loosened up with each moment that passed by. At some point, he added another finger in, stretching me out even more. Those fingers worked wonders, pressing in all the sweetest spots that I never knew were there. I could bet anything that he’s not a virgin, so fingers must be his expertise…

Koujaku rocked back to sitting up, sliding his fingers from out of me. I prayed that it wasn’t over, but knowing that I was with Koujaku this far, it definitely wouldn’t be.

He undid his own jean button and zipper, taking out his erection from his underwear. He stroked it a few times, letting me watch with a half-lidded expression. The underside of my knees were hoisted upwards by him so that my legs dangled in the air, my lower half in plain sight. Koujaku let my legs eventually rest up on his shoulders as he positioned himself closer to me. He rubbed his tip near my entrance, warning me of his next move.

I braced myself, shutting my eyes tight. Something else touched me, however, and it was not suggesting anything sexual.

Koujaku sweeped my bangs to the side of my face with such care that I had to open my eyes.

“Aoba. It’s okay. Relax, breathe. I’ll take care of you.”

Just those few words made a world of a difference for me. I nodded reassuringly, allowing the situation to be less scary and more pleasurable.

With his hands clutching my inner thighs, his cock entered me.

At that moment, I had to close my eyes and cry out. There was pain. A lot of it. The thickness and length of him were much more than just a finger or two. My face contorted and scrunched up, desperately attempting to become used to it. My knuckles gradually became as white as the sheets that they were gripping onto. He continued to push deeper, spreading my inner walls open until, finally, he was all in.

He waited for me to dissolve from the first few seconds of shock, then pulled out almost all the way. Then he pushed in again. Then out. Then in. Out. In.

“Kou-jak!!”

I was heaving, my whole body paralyzed from the pure bliss. My sight was gone; all was blurry and indefinite. I could hear animalistic grunts come from Koujaku as his thrusts pounded me harder and harder. The pain switched to a warm goodness, and I had the desire for more and more and more.

Koujaku’s fingernails dug into the soft flesh of my thighs, sending throbs of sensation directly to my brain and elsewhere. I began to jerk myself off at the same pace that he plunged into me. I rocked back and forth with him.

“O-oh god, aahh!!” Tiny pools of precum spilled from my cock, dribbling down my length and landing on my abdomen. Thankfully, it assisted in lubrication for myself.

“Ao...ba!” he growled.

“I-I can’t, I’m-!!”

The angle of Koujaku in me was perfectly aligned in hitting my prostate. Pressure built up within. My back arched as a primal yell  found its way out of me as I reached climax. My cum spurted out all the way up to my chest. The ball of pent-up tightness unraveled in my stomach.

My hard orgasm pushed Koujaku over the edge as well. With one final rough thrust and a guttural sound, his warm liquid coated my insides.

My heart was going to explode of my chest. Falling down from my peak made me feel like I was floating. That is, until the weight of Koujaku collapsed on top of me. I didn’t mind. Our mix of sweat and heat surprisingly felt amazing. My arms curved around his back and my fingernails smoothly scratched him, memorizing every valley and spot of his skin and muscles. We lazily kissed each other through our blind phased state as he pulled himself out of me. My eyes were heavy, and soon my focus of him slipped away as I lost consciousness.

 

~~~

 

The word “sore” has taken on a whole new meaning for me. There are all kinds of things you can do to be sore the day afterwards such as exercising or lifting heavy things or just sleeping wrong throughout the night.

My soreness is sex sore. And god, does it hurt good.

I had work yet again the very next day, and I wasn’t even _supposed_ to be working. Apparently, Mizuki attended some wild party last night called Dry Juice (he told me about it once - something about a once-a-year bash with tons of people and alcohol) and had such a tremendous hangover that he called in sick. My day of relaxing and recouping had been cancelled.

My balance seemed off and my legs felt like gelatin, so standing for hours, especially on a day where there wasn’t much business, hurt like hell. I still had about two more hours until my shift was done. Not only should I be in bed, my massive headache didn’t help my problems. If I had one hour left to live today, I would’ve spent it here at my job, because working now feels like an eternity.

A familiar red-adorned figure strutted through the door, along with a female escort. Her arm looped through his, Koujaku and the woman chatted happily with smiles across their faces. Although she probably didn’t mean anything to him, a pinch of jealousy grew in my heart.

Koujaku turned his head toward the counter, ready to place his order, and stopped. The smile fleeted, and the look in his eye told me he just dropped into nervousness.

“Aoba?” he managed to stumble out.

“Afternoon, Koujaku.”

“I thought...you weren’t working today,” he said in disbelief. First of all, how did he know my work schedule? Second, why did he care if I was his barista today?

Oh right. That was dumb of me.

“Yeah, I should be at home right now, but Mizuki couldn’t make it today so I’m covering his shift.”

“I see…” he blinked a few times to snap back into reality, plastering on the smile once more. I wrote down his order and he paid me, tipping me again by telling me to keep the change.

“Sweetie, I’m going to go to the restroom. I’ll be right back,” the woman cooed to him. I pointed her to the direction of the restroom, and she was gone. I got to work on their coffee, but I shot Koujaku a look.

“Before you ask, she’s a longtime friend of mine. Helped me through my mother’s passing,” Koujaku scorned. I pushed my envy to the backburner, and a faint blushed pushed up to my cheeks.

“Sorry. I just don’t know any of the girls you know, so…”

“Aoba, I’ve never had a relationship with any of them. They’re beautiful, but I’d rather not date a fan.” It was silent for a moment, and he started chuckling at his own joke. I couldn’t help but joining in.

“I’d like to take you out, Aoba. On a real date, not my own neighborhood.”

“Well, my shift ends a few hours so it’ll have to-”

“No, I mean right now.”

I was trying to ignore myself from looking at him again and continued to prep the coffee. “Koujaku, you have a guest with you. Plus, I’m working.”

By then, he was leaning on the countertop on his elbows. “I can tell her I forgot I have other arrangements, and you can tell Mr. Haga that, too.” His chin tilted upwards towards the direction of the backroom where Haga usually is.

I scoffed at him, thinking his plan was ridiculous. He lifted his eyebrows at me as if to plead for my approval. After handing him the two steaming cups, I muttered a few words under my breath about his influence. I peeked my head around the corner of the open door

“Hey, Mr. Haga?” I asked in the nicest voice I can muster up. “Um, we haven’t had a lot of business today. Would you mind if I took off early?”

It looked as if he was fixing some kind of pipe. Haga was a generally nice, older man that not only made coffee but did most of the utility work to save money. He always wore a hat and glasses with such thick rims that it was hard to see his eyes. Besides, I’m pretty sure he favored me because I was so hardworking.

“Sure, Aoba! I can watch the shop for the next few hours, and you deserve a little slack since this wasn’t technically your shift.” He laughed to himself and continued to wrench on a bolt or something.

“Thank you, sir!” I bowed my head slightly to him and disappeared back to the front. Koujaku was with the girl again. She nodded happily to him, took her coffee, and left with a wave.

“Alright, I’m good to go. What about the girl?”

“Taken care of. I explained a little of the white lies. I thought it would break her heart that I wasn’t going to be able to sit and have coffee with her, but she took it as me being such a good person for owning up to the responsibilities that I had ‘forgotten.’”

I rolled my eyes. _Typical_. Undoing my ponytail and letting my hair fall where gravity took it, I hung up the apron and wiped some cream off my shirt. Koujaku headed for the door, and I trailed behind him. Everything on the island is within walking distance, so we were together going down the street. As soon as we were alone, he was a fluttering mess, not saying a word and looking anywhere but at me. At some point or another, his hand fit slowly into mine, and our fingers laced together. We were too scared to say anything, but also too scared to let go.

 

Something being born from nothing is truly an amazing phenomenon. This regular customer that was the pinnacle of annoying has now transformed into someone that I truly cared about. I wanted to talk to him and learn about him and be around him. I don’t know how much farther we’ll go. I don’t know whether I’m the one he wants or will want later on. I don’t know anything that the future holds, but right now, the present is all I need.


	3. Green

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might've gone just a little bit overboard on this chapter...so this is what 10k words look like, if you were wondering.  
> This chapter made me cry so much that I wanted to throw myself into the sun ;alksdha;haslkdj  
> I track my url "#hellamilk" and "#fic: java" if you want me to see something!  
> Special thanks to Kait (uchou.tumblr.com) for being my beta reader and editor for Java. I'm glad that the creative writing class you took in the 3rd grade is finally being put to good use.  
> And of course, thank you for all of the support from everyone! It means the world to me and y'all have inspired me to pick up writing again. Much love!

“Thank you, come again!”

Actually, I take that back. Please don’t _ever_ come again.

The drive-thru, that I have the unfortunate duty of attending to, hosted another one of those creepy men obsessing over my voice. He had a husky whisper to him which only made the situation all the more freaky. He continued to ask me the specifics of each and every type of coffee we served, right down to the type of milk used. I knew that was his excuse to make me talk, but after having to put up with these type of people constantly, I knew how to get around it.

It was noon, so the lunch crowd was bustling in little by little before slowly filling the shop. Chattering came from all around so it was difficult to call out names of readied coffee, or hear the soft jazz music that played from the radio perched on top of a cabinet. I moved so quickly with orders that the end of my ponytail would whip around and smack me in the face. Thankfully, there was no headache (yet, maybe it will come when the lunch rush is over) so as for now, my alertness was up to par.

I heard a drowned out _tingaling!_ from the front door over the roar of the crowd. The silver bell attached by a ribbon jingled as the door swung open.

“Hi! Welcome to the Ol’ Distr…”

I almost dropped the cup of coffee that I held in my hand. I don’t know what stunned me more: the fact that this guy barged in without acknowledging the existence of me and everyone else around, or that he was the personification of a punk-rock circus.

Green was his palette. And definitely not in fashionable taste. He wore a light green slouch beanie, and pinned to the fabric was a very large smiley face button, only this smiley face had pointed teeth and had some red liquid spilling from its grinning mouth. Gross.

But that was just the beginning of it. I could tell that this kid had a bad attitude from the studded bracelets stacked on his wrists, a grey V-neck with a messily-done skinny green tie, stone-washed jeans that gathered at his green Vans. And...piercings. _Everywhere._ I didn’t know that many places on the face could be pierced. Eyebrows, bridge of the nose, the nose itself, under his lip, his hands included. Don’t get me started on the ones in his ears - there were too many to count. It must have hurt like hell to voluntarily puncture holes in his ears, let alone his entire face and possibly elsewhere. He must be fun at airports with so much metal.

I had to know what he was up to, so I watched everything. In his grasp was a laptop, which wasn’t too suspicious since many people come here to work. He darted his gaze left to right, his strawberry blonde bangs resting near his eyes. Direction changing, he nudged through some customers standing idly as he headed for the vacant circular table occupying the corner. His strides were large and full of determination, like nothing could get in his way. There were two chairs at this table, but he decided to scooch one of them away so there was just one single chair now. Dropping himself into the seat, he carelessly slammed his laptop onto the tabletop, opened it up, and began typing instantly.

His back was to the wall in a slouched position, so I couldn’t see what was on his monitor. On the back of the laptop screen, there was a logo: a green cube. It had a little face on it as well: just two black sticks for eyes and a horizontal line for a mouth. I didn’t recognize such a logo. Maybe it was some special computer for high-tech heavy use. I wouldn’t doubt if he was in a technological field of work - his fingers blazed across the keyboard and his concentration was tight on whatever he was working on.

I have never seen this guy before in the entirety of my coffee shop career. His looks, his actions, even the aura around him didn't feel right to me. He looked like the type of person that wasn't afraid to kick someone's ass, so in a way, he made me nervous just being in the same area as him.

I shook my head to snap myself out of my investigation since a line was now forming in front of me.

 

~~~

 

At four, my shift was just about over. Mizuki was going to take over for the night. I like Mizuki, and he’s a really cool guy, but I’ve always wondered how he landed a job here. He has white neck and face tattoos, and the face tattoo is a teardrop. I thought I read somewhere that teardrop tattoos meant you killed someone or something like that. With his brown-toned skin, they definitely stood out. Haga, being the old-fashioned kind of guy he is, probably had a heart attack when Mizuki first walked in to apply. But something about him got him hired.

The freakshow was still in town. I don’t think I saw him take one break away from his laptop. No one joined him at his table the entire time he was here, either. And he didn’t order one cup of coffee. He was definitely a few years younger than me, but this couldn’t be a college student; there were no books or papers around him. Of course, the optimist in me tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he’s new to the island or too shy to talk to people or has to get a major project done with no distractions. It had to be one of those things, I’m sure of it.

Sometimes the best way to find out about people is to initiate conversation. Besides, employees always want their customers happy.

After I finished wiping the coffee pots clean, I took a breath in and gingerly made my way over to his corner. I stopped about three feet away from him, hoping I wouldn’t be invading his personal space.

“Excuse me, sir. My shift’s about to end, but I can whip up another coffee if you’d like one!” I genuinely smiled at him. I could make a friend out of this.

It’s true. Looks can kill. I felt myself withering away on the inside piece by piece. His eyeballs were the only thing that moved. Beady pupils threateningly stabbed into mine. It was just from this intense and stoic glare that told me that I was pestering him.

His mouth opened halfway, and my heart stopped. _Is he going to speak to me?_ I hoped that he would and that my friendly greeting had worked.

I was wrong. No words came out. Instead, the tip of his tongue slowly glided over each bared tooth. He didn’t take his eyes off of me, like a lion would when stalking its prey. I caught a glimpse of a metal ball on the underside of his veiny tongue. I was extremely uneasy but I couldn't stop watching what he was doing. After glossing over his teeth, his tongue retreated back into his mouth. With that, he lowered his eyes back to the screen of his computer and started to type again as if nothing happened.

I had to blink to process what I just witnessed. _What the hell was that?_ I haven’t the slightest idea what he was hinting at me. I gulped down the nerves, and just backed away so I wouldn’t cause more awkwardness.

By that time, Mizuki had entered and was clocking in behind the counter, work apron already tightened fastly around him. I hung mine up on my designated hook on the wall in the backroom. He saw me behind the counter and beamed at me.

“Sup, Aoba?”

“Hey.”

“What’s the matter? Shitty day or something?”

“Well…” I looked behind me to make sure no one was around to hear me, and I began to whisper in a rushed tone. “Okay, you see that guy in the corner with the beanie?”

Mizuki sneaked a look around the corner at the kid who wasn’t paying any attention to the two of us. Unfortunately, Mizuki isn’t the most tactful person, so he spoke at regular, not-discreet-at-all volume. “Yeah, what about him?”  
“Shh! I need you to do me a favor. I have to leave, so just...keep an eye on him. He’s been in here all day and been acting kinda weird. Text me after you close the shop if he does anything out of the ordinary and when he leaves, okay?”

"And if he does do something, then what? You want me to call the cops or something?" He laughed at his own joke.

"Mizuki, I'm serious! I don't trust him, he looks like bad news. Make yourself useful and just do this for me, okay?" I playfully punched him in the arm.

“Yeah, yeah. Sure thing,” Mizuki said, rolling his eyes and peeking around the wall that blocked us from view again.

“Thanks. I’ll see you later.”

“Bye!”

I made my way to the exit while releasing my hair from its ponytail. I couldn’t resist one last look at the man in the corner.

Still typing, still apathetic towards everything around him. Nothing different. Although he himself was very, very different.

 

~~~

 

The Ol’ District coffee shop’s official time of closing was 10pm, but since employees have to stay behind a little longer to do some last minute cleaning and checkups, we usually get out at around 10:30pm. I was anxious all evening, waiting for some kind of message from Mizuki.

At 10:42, I got the text.

Short, sweet, to the point.

**He didn’t do anything. On his computer the whole time and no coffee. Didn’t talk or move either. Left just before closing.**

I stared at the words, a little bit disappointed that nothing had been discovered after I left. I texted Mizuki back.

**He did the same for me. You sure? You watched him?**

The phone vibrated a few moments later.

**Like a hawk. Don’t freak out. It’s probably nothing. Got to go.**

I let out a heavy sigh and carelessly tossed my phone across the bed so it landed on the sheets. Mizuki was right, he usually was when I overanalyzed things. This was probably just a one-time thing, so I should forget about it and focus on my actual job than a customer (or solicitor, I should say for him) who may be a bit odd.

Shit. I forgot that I didn’t even _have_ work tomorrow. Now I’d have to wait more than a full 24 hours in order to see if he shows up again. I have to know about him and his intentions. Nobody walks into a coffee shop to sit on their computer until closing without company or actually having coffee. But this guy did. And he might do it again. That’s why I have to-

 _What am I thinking?_ Why do I care so much about understanding one person that came in one time, being a total jackass, with no guarantee of coming back? It’s stupid and improbable of me. He obviously does not want to have anything to do with me.

In a state of confused frustration, I stuffed my face into my pillow on the bed and groaned loudly. The only thing I could do was wait. Time was against me like it always was.

 

~~~

 

I decided on my day off that I would confront him. Haga doesn't like people in his shop who just take up space, especially if they're rude. He will have to listen to me because I work here and he doesn't and I have the right to kick him out. I don't know if that's a good enough reason, but it's worth a shot.

Weekdays tend to be less busy than the weekends, and this day was no different. A couple people mingling here and there, not too terribly hard to manage. I started to pour more water in the coffee pot before...

_Tingaling!_

For some reason, I could feel a chill creeping down my spine.

He's here. I can sense his angered presence.

His variation of clothing choices hadn't really changed since I last saw him: a darker shirt and more holes in his light jeans. He still had cuffs, and the piercings, and the beanie with the gory button.

Computer in hand, he claimed the exact same table, back to the wall, and minded his own business. It bugged me so much how he thought he just owned the place. I'm not going to be scared anymore. It's now or never.

Standing up just a bit taller, my feet had a mind of their own. Before I knew it, I had walked over to him in his space. I tossed my bangs over to the side with a swift jerk of my head.

"Excuse me."

No reaction.

"Excuse me, sir?" A bit louder this time.

Now I'd done it. The same cold stare met my eyes like it had just a couple days before. It was a challenging type of stare, one that said _come on, I dare you._

I had to keep my voice firm and quit working myself up. Do not show fear - it's what will make you crack. "I'd like to know what business you have here. What is your name?"

Silence.

"I'll ask again. What is yo-"

"Not important."

He responded without hesitation. It almost took me off guard. He had a smooth voice and it was deeper than mine. There was no inflection, however. No emotions, no nothing.

"What?"

"I said it's not important."

That ticked me off. "You've been coming here for some time, and doing some suspicious behavior and-"

"So?"

"So...if you don't state your business, I will have to ask you to leave."

He cocked a thin eyebrow at me. His tongue pushed from the inside of his cheek out, creating a lump on his face. He held that pose for a few moments which made everything all the more tense. Both of his palms pressed into the table to boost him upwards. He stood about an inch taller than me, yet I still felt like I shrank to the size of a bug from his intimidation. He roughly grabbed a fistful of my apron in his hand, and in that moment, I feared for my life. I thought he was going to punch me right here, right now, in the shop. I shut my eyes, the terror visible in my expression. I braced myself for the pain I was about to receive.

But no blow ever came.

Instead, I was tugged forward and soon felt warm skin on me in the last place I expected. He was... _kissing me_.

I don't remember how many people saw it or how long it lasted. My arms and legs wouldn't move to push him off; I could only freeze from the shock. The two piercings below his lip rubbed against my chin which tickled a bit. He controlled the kiss, so my mouth opened and closed when his did. His teeth got a hold of my bottom lip and pulled it gently towards him before finally releasing me.

I was out of breath as if I had sprinted a mile. My thoughts were rampant in my mind as I tried to think of something to say. But what do you say when a complete stranger kisses you?

He smirked with one side of his mouth, muttering at a level that only I could hear. "You're cute. I like that."

He lost his smug grin as quickly as it appeared. His fingers clutched the edge of the laptop screen and slammed it closed. Scooping it up in the crook of his arm, he strode out the door and was gone before I was fully aware that I was left alone.

Although I couldn't see myself, I knew that a beet red color was washing over my face. I was a statue with a half-gaping mouth and raging emotions. I was just kissed. By a guy. The questions were lined up in my brain one after the other. A throbbing pain ached in the flesh of my lip where he bit. I softly touched it and felt where his teeth had broken the skin. I retracted my finger and a tiny amount of blood stained the surface. He bit _that_ hard? I sucked my lip in to try to clean up any of the blood that was still on there. The metallic taste was bitter, considering how I started bleeding in the first place. From then on, I knew that I was dealing with my biggest challenge yet.

 

~~~

 

By the next day, the small cuts on my lower lip had begun to heal. Damn him.

I yawned. It was mid-morning, and I didn’t sleep very well last night. The events from yesterday with that jerk had been reeling and looping back like one of those old-fashioned movie reels. Sometimes, a good memory is one of the worst skills to have, because it tears you apart when you keep remembering the things you definitely don’t want to relive again. My head was pounding from the stress and confusion. I didn’t want to be here today. I want to be home, in my bed, asleep. But I think that would have been worse for me, because then I would have been left alone with all of my thoughts.

Trying to keep myself from dozing off, I kept myself busy, writing down every order and constantly moving. One thing, one person, made me stop in my tracks.

Him. The guy. The freak. Whoever the hell he was, he was here again. He made me sick to my stomach just to see him again.

Only this time, he didn’t go to hover in his corner. He came up to the counter to stand right in front me. He hunched over so that one arm rested on the surface to balance him.

“Hey, you.”

“I have a name, you know,” I retorted, pointing to my name badge. I didn’t care how mean I sounded. This was no customer anymore. He nonchalantly glanced at it, then returned his focus to me.

“Aoba, huh?”

“Yes.” He blatantly did not give a damn what my name was. Knowing him, he’d probably make fun of it. I eyed him up and down, trying to see if I could read him in any way. Nothing. That’s the thing, though - he wasn’t easy to understand.

Something did, however, catch my attention. Hidden among the steel stud bracelets was a botched bracelet made of...duct tape. He made a duct tape bracelet. What an idiot. But that wasn’t the important part. In permanent marker were drawings of little demon bunnies with disturbing features such as their ears having bites out of them and spiraling, insane eyes. They surrounded a word drawn in graffiti letters: “Noiz.” That has to mean something.

I decided to test my theory.

“So, uh, what does ‘Noiz’ mean? On your bracelet.” I pointed to the makeshift cuff.

I thought I had approached it the wrong way because it would’ve been the perfect opportunity for him to reply with some snarky comeback. He didn’t, though. He drew a long breath in through his nostrils, using his exhale to finally answer my question.

“It’s me.”

His name. I got a name.

“Oh,” I muttered. I stiffened up again, realizing that I was supposed to be upset with him. “So, Noiz, what are you doing here again? I don’t know what your problem is bu-”

“Go out with me.”

What?

_What the hell?_

“Excuse me?” I said breathlessly.

“You heard me.”

“Yeah, I heard you, but what are you talking about?”

“Come on, are you stupid? I want you to go on a date with me.” He still had the emotionless tone in his voice.

He’s crazy. He’s absolutely crazy. No way would I ever want to spend more time than I have to with him. The back and forth bickering continued.

“Why would I want to do that?”

“Because.”

“Dude, you assaulted me yesterday!”

He shrugged both shoulders casually. “Oops.”

I can’t believe this. This is an outrage. I don’t think I’ve wanted to hit somebody so hard in the mouth just so they would shut up. I have never in my 23 years of life met someone that was as insensitive and despicable as him.

“Are you serious right now? You forcibly kissed me _without my consent_ and all you can say to that is ‘oops’ like it was some kind of accident?!” I was gritting my teeth together.

“Careful, Aoba. You’re in public.” The smirk on his face caused my insides to boil from anger, but he was right. We were in the middle of the coffee shop arguing like this. I can’t lose my composure - Haga is here, and he doesn’t know that Noiz has been causing trouble. If he sees me getting angry at a “customer,” I could get fired…

“Listen to me. You may think you’re all that great, but I will never go on a date with someone like you. Now get out of here, you’re holding up the line.” That was also true. Some people were standing behind Noiz, watching us and obviously curious about our little scene.

He stood up, rolling his neck in a circle to stretch it like he just woke up from a nap. He let out an audible sigh after his vertebrae cracked.

“Fine. Then I guess I’ll just have to make you.”

My eyes grew wide. I had no idea what that meant. He said it in such an unconcerned way that it made him incredibly more mysterious and scary. I didn’t get a chance to ask him because he had stepped out of the line and walked out of the shop, just like that.

The next thing I knew, I was laughing. I was laughing at myself and the whole situation more than anything. Going on a date with Noiz. As if.

What I hadn’t realized was how serious Noiz was about what he said.

I worked four out of five days this week, and he came every single time. I never knew when to expect him to show up because he came at random times - sometimes in the morning, sometimes in the afternoon, even sometimes just as the shop was about to close. And when he did come by, he demanded the same thing over and over again.

“Go out with me.”

“How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t want to?”

I hadn’t been as angry as I was the first time he pressured me. Now it was just becoming an annoying part of my day. Of course, he was very inconsiderate to the other people who actually came here to buy coffee by standing at the counter and taking up space.

“Date me.”

“No!”

“Why not?”

“Why do you want to go out with me so _badly?_ ”

“Because.”

That was another one of his famous lines. Anytime I asked him what his whole purpose was for doing this, he would never give me a forward answer.

“You’re really not going to let this go, are you?”

“Not until you say yes.”

I groaned. I don’t know how much more I could take of his stubbornness. At this point, I’d probably say yes just so he would finally stop disrupting my job. He was like a child that just kept pushing and pushing. At least he wouldn’t cry about it each time I rejected him. Instead, he’d calmly give me a half-grin and be on his way.

_Why me?_

 

~~~

 

I arrived at the shop about 10 minutes early before opening. I still felt the sleepiness in my eyes so I tried to rub it away. No use. I still wanted to pass out right on the ground. I can only hope that time flies by.

Haga gave Mizuki and me a spare key in order to open and close the shop if need be. Pulling it out of my pocket, I jimmied the lock. I turned it left, but it didn’t work. Was it stuck? I tried going the other way. The key went around in a circle, but I knew that wasn’t the way to open the door. I tried pushing the handle down. It opened. Either Mizuki and Haga forgot to lock up the night before, or someone was already here.

I stuck my head in. The shop was quiet with no movement. I started to panic a bit. Anything could have been stolen, and anyone could be sneaking around in here. Just then, I heard some grunting noises from outside. I whipped around, but I saw no one. Then the noises called out again from the side of the building. Cautiously, I tiptoed by the wall just in case it was someone that I shouldn’t be running into.

“Why won’t this thing work?!” It was a man’s voice. An older man.

“Mr. Haga?”

The boss was kneeling by the drive-thru speaker with a toolbox next to him. He was elbows-deep inside the machine, muttering to himself. He leaned back to see me and smiled wide. The mole above the left side of his wrinkling mouth moved with the curves.

“Aoba! Thank goodness you’re here!”

"Hello. You do know the door is unlocked, right?" My hitchhiker thumb pointed over my shoulder.

"Yes, yes. That was me. I came earlier this morning." He was speaking into the box more than to me.

“What’s going on here?”

“Ah, last night, the speaker started dying out. Mizuki and I couldn’t go out to check it then because it was too dark.” His gloved hands that were stained in dirt rested on his hips as he pouted at the machine.

“I see. You know what’s wrong with it?” I asked.  
“No idea. It’s funny, I can fix most anything but I can’t seem to figure out what’s going on inside this thing. Plus…” he leaned in closer to the interior of the metal, his voice now echoing in the small space. “There are so many wires and parts in here that are newer models, so I haven’t had a chance to figure out how they work.”  
I nodded my head. “Shouldn’t you just call an electrician or something?”

“What?” he shouted. All of that metal around him probably made his hearing even worse than it already was.

I raised my voice. “ _Are you going to call an electrician?_ ”   
He stuck his head out again and spoke at a normal volume, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I might have to. I don’t know anybody that would do it for free. Got any friends that might know how to do this?"

“I don’t think I-” I paused. Someone who was good with technology...I hated to admit it, but he just might be the right person for the job. “Actually, I might know someone. He might be stopping by sometime today so I’ll get him to look at it.”

“Thank you, Aoba! Lucky for you, you won’t have to do drive-thru today.” He stood up and brushed the grass off of his knees. “I’m just going to put a big sign on it that says OUT OF ORDER so people don’t get confused.”

“Alright, then.” I faked a laugh for him. I try to laugh whenever Haga wants to be funny because I know no one else will.

 

~~~

 

After just a few hours of working, Haga walked inside, head drooping with shame.

"So Haga, any luck with the speaker?"

He didn't answer. I only received a defeated shake of his head. He shuffled his feet and headed into the backroom, also known as his office.

"Okay well sorry to hear tha-"

The door slammed shut.

I didn't know that Haga was so sensitive. He was the type of guy to always take pride in his work, so to him, failures must feel like catastrophes. He had a reputation of being a handyman, and apparently that reputation had been shattered by a drive-thru speakerbox.

I was more anxious to see Noiz than any other time he's come in. I think it was because I was expecting him today. Its not like I wanted to see him or anything, I just needed to put him to good use for once. Hopefully, he will comply despite the fact that I won't accept his date invitations.

The stars must have been aligned, because he confidently walked through the door right on cue. He spotted me, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards.

"Noiz!" I called out to him a little too eagerly. He stopped in his trail as his eyebrows furrowed in the middle.

"Surprised to see me, kid?"

I held up my hand to him so he wouldn't open his mouth any longer. "Before you try to hit on me, I need to ask you a favor."

He chuckled softly, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "Never thought I'd see the day when you’d want me."

"No that's not...anyways, you're good with technology, right?” He shrugged at me. “Our drive-thru speaker is broken. Can you just give it a quick look to see if you can fix it?”

“What do I look like to you, a repairman?”

“Please just help me out one time,” I begged. I have never sunk this low and I have never been more ashamed of myself.

Noiz let out a deep sigh as if I was asking him to do some tremendous chore. “Fine. Where is it?”

“Follow me.” I headed outside, and he became my shadow. I led him to the speakerbox with its OUT OF ORDER sign flapping in the wind. “Here.”

He studied the outside for a moment before approaching it. He didn’t touch it or even bother to open the door to see what was inside. Instead, Noiz pulled his foot back and gave the box a firm kick to the side. The metal vibrated with a wobbling sound. “Yep. Shit’s broken.”

“Great observation, genius. Can you do something about it?”

“Yeah, I can.”

“Well, good. You can borrow Haga’s toolbox if you need to,” I gestured to the red container sitting on the ground beside the broken machine. The lid was wide open and filled to the brim with various tools and spare parts. Noiz look down at it.

“It’s gonna take more than an old monkey wrench and a screwdriver to fix it,” he said. “I’ve got tools back at my apartment.”

“Oh, that’s great!”

“But you’re coming with me to go get them.”

That’s definitely _not_ great. Even though I was going on my hour long lunch break, I couldn’t go to Noiz’s apartment. I didn’t want to see his lifestyle. I wanted no bonds to him other than this.

“Noiz, I’m not going with you.”

“Fine then, no drive-thru for the coffee shop. Guess you’ll just have to lose some business…” He turned on his heels, slowly walking in the opposite direction.

“Okay, okay! I’ll go ask Haga if I can leave really quick. Jeez, you’re such a baby,” I grumbled.

“So it’s a date then.”

“Woah, woah, woah. This isn’t a date. I’m going with you to go pick up some tools, that isn’t-”

“Doesn’t matter. You said yes, so it’s a date.”

“That doesn’t make any...forget it. I’m not arguing about this.” His back was to me, but I could hear him chuckling.

 

~~~

 

After speaking with Haga for a brief few minutes (he was too busy sulking to realize I had just asked him if I could leave work with a stranger), I hung up my apron and met up with Noiz outside.  
“Okay, so how far is the walk?”

“Ha. Good one. We’re driving.”

“Really?” I hadn’t been in a car for a long time. I traveled everywhere on foot, so to me, having a car was almost a luxury.

“Yeah. I live 20 minutes away from here.” His chin jerked up to the right towards the shop’s very small parking lot of about 4 parking spaces. “It’s the one on the far left.”

It was beautiful, black, and vintage-looking. It had a longer shape than most of the smaller cars here on the island. Noiz reached within his pockets, pulled out a set of keys, and clicked the alarm. The car whistled two times and Noiz opened the driver door.

“Well, don’t just stand there. Get in.”

I awoke from my hypnosis and jogged over to the passenger side. The door was a bit tricky to open, but I managed to not make a huge idiot out of myself.

I slid inside. The tan leather front seats were all connected to be one long row. The car had a new smell to it, but judging by the design, the model wasn’t.  I instinctively reached for a seatbelt strap, but there wasn’t one.

Noiz saw me searching. “No seatbelts.”

“What kind of car doesn’t have seatbelts?! That’s so dangerous!”  
“It’s amazing how you don’t know me by now.”

I rolled my eyes. He better be a damn good driver because I refuse to die in a car wreck with this guy. Noiz turned the key in the ignition and the engine roared to life. I didn’t know a thing about cars, but it had a beautiful sound.

“So what kind of car is this?”

“1969 Mustang. Vintage and refurbished to be just like new. Can’t be found on the island, so I had it transported here.” He was looking over his shoulder as he was backing the car out of the parking spot. I inspected every interior detail of the small space. The floor and seats were spotless, and hanging from the rearview mirror were a pair of fuzzy red dice. That would be Noiz’s kind of style.

“That sounds expensive. How did you afford it?”

He paused for a moment, thinking. “I sell stuff.”

I cocked my head to the side. “That’s a pretty broad field of work. Stuff as in…?”

“Information.”

“ _Information_ as in…?”

“Since when did you care to get involved in my life?” His tone had a sharpness to it. I knew that it was time to stop asking questions.

The scenery raced past the windows with different shades of green and gray. Noiz only drove with one hand resting on the wheel, making me extremely nervous. We traveled on the main road heading towards the opposite side of the island.

A red light had stopped us. The tension grew each time we weren’t moving, and I didn’t like it at all.

“It’s funny. I didn’t picture you driving a car like this!” I said amusingly, hoping to lighten the mood.

“What makes you say that?”

“I don’t know. You’re you, I guess. All hardcore and whatnot. This looks more like a rock’n’roll type of car!”

I hadn’t realized the magnitude of what I said, because Noiz definitely wasn’t laughing. In fact, he hadn’t even turned his head to look at me - his eyes simply glared at me from the side.

“Maybe I didn’t choose to be like this.” Now he was pissed.

“What do you me-”

“See, that’s your first mistake, kid. You assume things about people based on what you get from first impressions. You _think_ you’ve got me all figured out, but in reality, you don’t know shit.”

The light turned green, and Noiz sped off.

I couldn’t even mumble an apology. I knew it wasn’t any use.

We remained silent for the rest of the journey. The smooth humming from the engine led me doze off a bit, but a sudden jolt forward from Noiz slamming on the brakes woke me up instantly.

“We’re here,” Noiz announced unenthusiastically.

The apartment complex was normal. Everything was. It seemed kinda odd because Noiz didn’t seem like the type to live in such a typical apartment, but I remembered that I shouldn’t be making guesses.

He parked the Mustang near the sidewalk. “Stay here. I don’t want you meeting my roommate. I’m leaving the car running so lock up when I get out.” Before I had a chance at a rebuttal, he was already out and making his way to the building.

My knees were pulled up to my chest with my arms wrapped around them. I didn’t know where the lock was for the car, but I eventually found it by pushing down the bar into the door. I heard the click on the door, and then I was alone. The guilt was flooding into my mind. I really made Noiz upset and  I was digging my grave even deeper now. It wasn’t on purpose, though, so he’s got to understand that. I guess I underestimated him, but what am I supposed to think about him if he always shuts everyone out? I needed something to break the silence that I had with my thoughts, so I pushed the power button on the radio to look for some music.

I almost had a heart attack right then and there. Heavy metal music blasted through the speakers, shaking the car with it. The heavy bass quaked all the way to my bones. I pressed my palms to my ears to block out the sound, but to no avail. I didn’t know frequencies could hurt so much. I punched the power button again before I went deaf, and the quiet undertone seeped in once more.

I tilted my head backwards, expecting to be met by a headrest. There wasn’t one. No seatbelts, no headrests...this car was a death trap.

I sat for a few more minutes before I heard some faint shouting from outside. I glanced out the window to see Noiz walking briskly around the corner, but then he quickly turned around on his heel. He was flipping somebody off.

“Yeah, fuck you too!!” I heard him yell. I was scared to question what had happened in there, so I shrank into a curled up ball in my seat. He pulled the door open with great force, tossed a small duffel bag into the backseat, and got in.

“God, I hate him so much.”

“Uh, who?” I squeaked.

“My roommate. All he does is smoke joints every day so there’s ash all over the goddamn place and I tell him not to do it inside; I don’t want to get kicked out again because of someone else’s stupidity. He’s such a dumbass sometimes…” Noiz started up the car.

“Then why do you live with him?”

“Because it lowers the rent when you’ve got a roommate. I was so desperate looking for one that I took in the first bastard that I saw. Big mistake.” He sighed heavily. “Alright, let’s get outta here.” Noiz’s right hand grabbed on to the gear shift, and I froze.

“Noiz, you’re bleeding!”

A long and possibly deep slash scraped across the back of his hand. The blood was trickling down his fingers, smearing all of his skin with the reddish color. He saw it, but he did nothing.

“Oh. Well, shit.”

“Oh my god, what happened?! We need to clean it!” I was freaking out. What shocked me more wasn’t the blood, but the fact that he wasn’t doing anything about it.

“Eh, must’ve cut it because I was grabbing all the tools in a hurry. You can just leave it,” he muttered.

“Are you crazy? You have a huge gash in your hand!” I searched my pockets for some kind of cloth, but I didn’t find anything. “Do you have any napkins or something?”

“Glove box.” He motioned to the compartment in front of me. I opened it up and pulled out several wads of clearly old, crumpled napkins. I took his hand in mine. He was trying to pull away, but I wouldn’t let him.

“Stop it, just let me clean it up! This might sting a little…” I pressed the napkins to his hand. The blood permeated the starch white cloth. “Does it hurt?”

“No.”

“Noiz. You’re injured, you can drop the tough guy persona now. Tell me the truth.”

“It. Does not. Hurt,” he reiterated slowly to me, staring me down.

“What, do you not feel it or something?” I inquired with a hint of sarcasm. I saw his jaw tense up as he fell quiet and turned his head away.

It couldn’t be. That sort of thing isn’t possible, is it?

“Noiz?”

He breathed deeply out of his nostrils and spoke in a hushed tone. “It doesn’t hurt. I don’t hurt. Ever.”

My breath hitched into a gasp, and my eyes grew wider at the realization. Things began to click. He has a million piercings because he didn’t feel them. And the time when he kicked the drive-thru speaker really hard, he didn’t even flinch. And now, with this cut…

“How? Why?”

“I was born like this. I grew up in Germany. I was a freak. Everyone I knew made fun of me for it. My parents didn’t even _want_ me because of it. They would always lock me away upstairs so I couldn’t hurt anyone or myself. I don’t even know how I’ve survived this long since most people with this disability don’t make it past the age of 15.”

I was completely floored by his history. “So do you not feeling anything at all?”  
“I can touch things, but it’s a very dull feeling. Doctors say it’s my nerve endings dealing with pain that don’t work. That also goes with temperature. There’s only one place that I can feel everything.” He opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue, a small metal ball poking out from the center.

By the time he finished explaining, I had bound his hand in the napkins as makeshift gauze. My vision was blurring over. He's had to experience so much heartbreak, all because of something that he couldn’t control. I could relate, too - I know what it's like to have parents that only thought of themselves and didn't care about you.

I blinked once, and small tears fell and landed on the material. “I’m...I’m so sorry. About everything. I didn’t know…”

Noiz made a noise that signaled a laugh. “I don’t go around flaunting to other people. It’s just something I have to live with because it’s who I am." He half-smiled. "Sometimes I think that it's not just my body that can't feel pain, but also my heart."

“No! That’s not fair!” My voice was cracking, and my pitch raised to a whinier note. “You shouldn’t have to live like this!”

“I can’t do anything about it.”

“I know, I know. I can’t imagine what you go through, but… please promise me that you’ll stay true to who you are! Promise me that you won’t let this setback define you and your self-worth. Forget everyone in the past that judged you because of it. I know we haven’t been getting along, but I wish I could take it away because...you deserve to be happy like everyone else…” I couldn’t hold back my crying anymore. The streams of tears trickling down my cheeks wouldn’t stop and my nose started to burn. I clinged to Noiz’s fingertips, praying that he could feel something there.

“Aoba…” he murmured. I didn’t want to look up and have him see my face in this twisted expression. I felt the thumb and index finger of his other hand take hold of my chin, tilting it upwards so I was facing straight ahead. I couldn’t see, my eyes were shut tight from my crying and whimpering.

Soon, the leather beneath us shifted, and he silenced me with his lips.

Our first kiss at the shop had filled me with so much anger. His force had caught me so off guard and left me fuming for days. However, this time, I only felt...good. My hands found their way onto Noiz's knees and I leaned into him. I wanted this. I wanted him to feel something. I wanted him to feel me.

By the time he pulled himself away, I had calmed down from all of the sobbing. I blinked a few times and smiled weakly at him. "I thought...you weren't supposed to kiss on the first date."

He lifted his eyebrows from surprise, but his smile that followed hinted something much darker.

"Fuck that," he growled. He lurched forward and kissed me again with much more passion. The mood inside this small space dramatically switched from calm and caring to heated and heavy. I hadn't caught my breath beforehand so I was gasping for air through the breaks in our lips. His tongue was teasing mine, and the metal ball in his mouth clinked against my teeth. It turned me on more than I thought it would. I could feel him advancing towards me, his body weight easing me back into the car door.

"Don't move," he whispered, his kisses grazing down my face and down my neck. I hesitantly tilted my head to the side so he had better access.

"What...what are you going to do?"

"Just because I can't feel doesn't mean you shouldn't." Those words went straight into my pants. My face started to heat up along with the rest of me.

Noiz’s coy fingers slipped under my shirt, hugging around my waist. His kisses on my skin enraptured me, causing small strained moans to escape my throat. My shirt had been lifted up to about my collarbones so that my abdomen and chest were revealed.

He moved quickly on me, working on my body before I had time to process  what he was doing. I heard the subtle snap of my belt being undone along with the button of my jeans.

And he exposed me. Somewhere in my state of cloudy vision, Noiz had pulled my pants and underwear off and thrown them in the backseat. My dick was already half hard in his hand. I bit my bottom lip hard, too embarrassed to look or even make a sound.

He must have noticed this, because the sexy low tone of his voice rang in my ears and throughout the car. “Hey. Don’t hold back what you feel. Let me hear that voice. I want to know just how good it is.” With that, he flicked the tip of his tongue across the head of my cock.

His request had almost forced me to let it all go. Another different wave of pleasure flowed through me. I’ve never had someone do something like this to me, but it didn’t matter. He took my growing shaft into his mouth, his tongue swirling in circles and his hand working at the base. Noiz proceeded at a steady rhythm, changing how he sucked me off every once in a while. It felt better - _so_ much better - than I could have imagined.

“N-Noiz..!!” I gasped. I took hold of a fistful of his hair, tugging gently. Noiz had me in his mouth midway when I did that, and I guess that must’ve turned him on. He glanced up at me with a fervent look in his eyes that told me to keep doing it.

In response to my grasp on him, he bit my cock lightly and dragged his teeth along it’s length before releasing me. I cried out. It hurt, but I was wildly aroused by his kink.

He stroked me a few more times before reaching over me to the glove box. I had closed my eyes by then, too engulfed in the seeping sensations to care what he was doing.

“Huh, glad I get to put this to good use after a while,” a voice said.

I heard the unmistakable sound of a cap being flipped open. Some shuffling sounds here and there, and then, something very cold and very wet came in contact with my ass. I flinched from the sudden chill and the new mental image that popped into my head. But I had to know for sure. Trying to open my eyelids felt more like lifting bricks, so I could only view a sliver through my blurry vision. Noiz still had all of his clothes on, except now his jeans and boxers were bunched at his knees. I didn’t know for sure, but his erection must’ve been huge. What struck me the most were small pinpoints of metal on the underside his dick. It took me a few moments before realizing what they were. He really doesn't have any class...

“Spread your legs,” his voice commanded. A shadow lingered over me. Noiz’s arms were on either side of my body. I did as I was told.

“God, you look so hot right now,” the same voice mumbled. “I need your ass right now.”

Then, Noiz filled me with his cock.

Every muscle in my body tightened. My arms flew upwards in a desperate search for something to cling onto. Thankfully, they found Noiz’s neck. My breathing became labored, and I forced myself to try to get used to the feeling.

“It hurts!!”

“Take it easy, Aoba. You’re not going to enjoy it if you’re stiff.”

Noiz pulled his hips backwards and jerked them forward again. A pulse pounded throughout me, resulting in a yelp from the pain. He did this repeatedly, yet each time got a little easier. I could sense that my insides were being spread open and easing out the tension with each thrust into me. The plentiful lubrication mellowed out the hurt as well.

The both of us were sweating in just minutes - the heat of our bodies radiated inside the cramped area. Noiz had sped up his thrusts, mixing all emotions and pain within me together, enough to where I couldn’t tell which was which. The rubbing and grinding of his piercings only amplified it all because it was so foreign to my body. Sounds were echoing against the interior as well. Most of them were from me, but every now and then, I could hear Noiz stifling a sigh of pleasure. All I needed to know was that he was enjoying this, even if it was only a little.

“Aoba...are you close?”

“Y-Yeah, aahh!!” My face scrunched up a bit more.

“We’ll come together, just hold on for a little longer.” As time went by, I could tell he was losing himself bit by bit.

I was so aroused by the idea of having sex in a public area that just the stimulus of Noiz was enough to drive me insane. My cock was pressed against his stomach above me and causing friction against the fabric of the shirt he wore.

As much as I wanted to hold out for Noiz, I had exceeded my limit. Moaning to almost the point of a struggled yelling, my back arched upwards as cum streamed out onto my abs. I came hard and everything was rigid, both inside and out. Noiz must’ve felt my insides contracting. With just a few thrusts more, he grit his teeth together and climaxed. Something tingled in me from the warm heat of his orgasm.

I was spiraling down from the immense rush. We both were breathing very heavily. Noiz pulled out of me and reached into the glove box once again to retrieve some napkins. After wiping himself off, he lifted one of my legs to clean my entrance of the liquids that were spilling onto his seat.

“Noiz, uh… there’s some..up here,” I said, motioning with my head to my stomach.

“Right, got it.” Except, he didn’t use the napkin. He hunched over me and in one swoop, he licked the pool of cum off and tasted it. His tongue tickled me and left a streak of saliva from my bellybutton to my ribcage.

“Noiz, what the he-”

I stopped. He was laughing again, but I didn’t understand why. My vision was coming back to normal from the aftermath of orgasming, so I could finally see his face clearly. Noiz opened his mouth and glided his tongue across the surface of his teeth, just like he had the very first day we met.

I laughed along with him. Even after enduring so much trouble both in the past and now, he still was an arrogant jackass.

 

~~~

 

Arriving back at Ol’ District felt extremely awkward. We had been gone ten minutes longer than the allotted time for lunch break. Haga was pretty lenient on stuff, but he was always preaching about being punctual. I checked my hair and clothes, making sure they looked identical to when they did before we left, and eventually stepped out of Noiz’s car.

As we entered the shop, I saw Haga attending to some customers. “Hey, Mr. Haga. We’re back.”

“Aoba? Where were you?”

“Mr. Haga, we left to go get some tools that Noiz needed in order to fix the drive-thru, remember? You gave me permission to leave on my lunch break.”

“I did?” He scratched his head. “How come I don’t remember that?”

“Well, you _were_ moping about ‘failing your civic duties,’ as you put it.”

Haga faked a laugh, completely humiliated. “Oh, yeah. That. Well, I hope you can get to it soon.”

I looked to Noiz, and he let out a sigh. “Alright, I guess I’ll get to work then. I better be getting paid or something.”

I scoffed at him. “With that attitude, you won’t be getting anything.”

Noiz rolled his eyes and left the shop to retrieve the duffel bag from the backseat. Passing by the window, he disappeared around the shop’s side.

“And _you_ , Aoba, need to get to work as well,” Haga gently scolded.

“Yes, sir!”  
I fetched my apron from the backroom, tying the strings behind my back as I walked back to the front.

Haga was still talking. “Even though you and your friend are helping me with the speaker, you’ve always got to arrive on time wherever you go. As I always say…”

I don’t know what he always says. And frankly, I don’t really care.

 

The orange and red shades of the sunset penetrated through the windows. I clocked out at my usual time, cleaning and setting everything up for the night shift. I was ready to go home - the painful repercussions of what Noiz and I did were setting in.

Noiz never came back in once he went back to work on the speakerbox. I wondered about him. Exiting the shop, I turned the corner, expecting him to be tinkering away with all kinds of gadgets.

But he wasn’t there. His bag was gone, too. The box looked just as new and there weren’t any obvious signs of damage. Did he just pick up and leave without a goodbye? A slight tinge of sadness buried in my heart since I didn’t see him before he left. Well, I can’t anticipate much out of him anyway. He is, after all, Noiz.

I made my way down the sidewalk to the right, kicking some loose pebbles every so often. I was hung up on the fact that I might not ever see him again. He did what I asked him to, so maybe he thought that I didn’t need him anymore. If he did think that, he couldn’t have been more wrong.

The small, clustered neighborhood that Granny and I lived at was a short walk. I could make out some crickets chirping in the bushes and the rustling of roosting birds in the trees. If my memory serves me right, I think Granny said something about coming home a little later than usual. Something about some medicinal research project she’s fixing up at the local pharmacy. Although she works from home as a private pharmacist and nurse, she has to regulate the official stuff with other professionals.

Through the darkening shadows surrounding a house, I noticed there was someone sitting on the front steps. My adrenaline started to pump through me. There’s hardly ever any crime in this neighborhood, but that didn’t mean anything.

“Hey, who are you?” I called out.

The figure laughed and stood up. He looked pretty tall. He wasn’t intimidated by me, but I sure as hell was by him.

That is, until he spoke.

“I fix your goddamn machine and then you suddenly forget who I am. Unbelievable.”

“Noiz?!”

He hopped off the steps and walks up to stand in front of me. “Oh, good. You don’t have amnesia.”

“Wait...how did you find where I live? Did you follow me home or something?”

“I told you, I sell information. In order to get information, you gotta research.” He flashed me a devious grin.

_He’s gotta be joking._

“Noiz, why didn’t you go home?”

The man shrugged with a disgusted expression on his face. “I try to stay away from my roommate as much as possible. I’d rather be homeless than have to live with that son of a bitch.”

I exhaled loudly, one eyebrow raised. “Well, what do you want me to do about it?”

“Let me stay here.”

“No. No way. My Granny is gonna be home soon, and she doesn’t do well with strangers, especially ones that have holes in places where there shouldn’t be holes.” I crossed my arms in front of me.

“Hey, I repaired your sorry excuse for a drive-thru and didn’t get paid anything, so if you let me stay here for the night, I’ll call it even.”

It was almost as dark as the night sky by then. It was tough to make out what Noiz looked like now. I pinched the bridge of my nose.

“Fine. Okay. You can stay. _For one night_. And then you leave in the morning.”

“Deal.”

I recovered the house key from under the welcome mat and unlocked the door, letting him inside first. I switched on a few lights for Granny when she got home. We both took off our shoes at the entryway.

“Wow…” Noiz studied the hallways and each shelf on the wall.

“You don’t have to look too impressed. Nothing spectacular here.”

“It’s better than where I live now, and _definitely_ better than where I grew up.” He picked up some knick-knack that Granny got from a trip to Europe. “My parents are rich so we had a huge house with all kinds of rooms. But since I was locked away like an animal in a cage, I only got to really see one room every day.”

My heart sank a bit. The more I learned of his past, the more I pitied him. It’s like I wanted to take care of him because even though his history wasn’t what it should have been, I wanted the rest of life to make up for it.

I stretched one of my arms up to pull the muscle. “I’m going upstairs to my room. Feel free to get some food or take a shower or whatever. Make yourself at home.” I turned away and headed for the stairs.

“Aoba.” His voice was weaker than before.

I whipped my head around. “Yeah?”

He was still standing near the door alone. “I don’t know what a home is. I need you to teach me.”

He seemed so innocent, so vulnerable, in that moment. I could picture him as a child asking where his mother and father were, or why no one wanted him to go outside and play. I smiled, going back over to him. I gently placed my hand around the back of his hand and guided it forward, letting him rest it on my shoulder. I petted the soft locks of his hair. He looked confused as to what I was doing, but soon nuzzled into the crook of my neck. His arms had snaked around my waist tightly as if he was too afraid to let go. I held him close to me with much love and care.

“You’ve always known what a home is,” I murmured. “Because I’m your home.”


	4. Yellow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry that this update is late. I'm been really busy with my theatre department because it's competition season!  
> Tracking"#hellamilk" and "#fic: java" on Tumblr. Comment, kudos, and share with friends! As always, much love <3

We might go out of business. It’s not because we aren’t selling enough. We get plenty of customers. Our business is just being taken from us from only a few yards away.

One morning, Haga came storming into the shop. He was burning with internal rage; I could tell by the red-hot aura around him and quiet composure.

“Hey, Mr. Haga. You alright?” I asked.

“I can’t believe this. I just can’t believe it,” he muttered, resting his elbows on the counters and shoving his face between his hands.

“What happened?”  
“Across the street, there’s a new coffee shop. It’s called the Platinum Coffee House. It’s supposedly new and modern with top-notch stuff.”

I peeked through the front door window. I noticed it while I was walking to work this morning, but didn’t think much of it. I don’t even remember it being built, and I definitely would’ve noticed something like that. It looked like it was completely made of some kind of white metal. Pristine and sharp, it was. Not many windows, either. The architect was unlike any building I had ever seen. There were bent frames and some kind of miniature tower coming out of the middle of the rooftop. I could see many people forming a line even out the door; it was booming with success.

“What else do you know about it?”

Haga stepped away from the counter and walked over to the newspaper stand, pulling one out from the top rack. He dropped it in front of me, pointing at some bolded letters on the front. “This,” he gestured.

 **THE FUTURE OF COFFEE IS HERE** read the title. I skimmed over the paragraphs succeeding the huge font and read quietly. “ _Run by the Toue family…is a wealthy man...many see bright future for this new company_ ….Wow, Mr. Haga. The media sure jumped on this one quickly.”

He slammed a fist on the countertop in frustration. “It’s not fair! Everyone knows about this shop, everyone! And they had to put their business right across the street from us!”

“Isn’t that what businesses do? I remember learning about this sort of thing in my high school economics class. They said it was to create competition or something.”

“I know, I know. It just makes me so angry because they think they can just come in this area with all their high-tech, fancy equipment. It’s going to draw people into there instead of here!”

“To be fair, sir, it’s not like we own the block. They have a right to start business here if they please.”

He shot me a condescending look. “Work with me here, boy.”

“What I’m trying to say, Mr. Haga, is that it’s going to be all right!” I said in a chipper voice, placing a hand on his shoulder. “We have something they don’t - homemade coffee. Sure, they can use automatic machines and whatnot, but we do it the old-fashioned way, and that always tastes better!”

Haga smiled a bit. “Thank you, Aoba. You always find the positive in things.”

“It’s all because I have faith in you and our shop that things aren’t going to change.”

I felt bad for saying those things, but I had to tell white lies sometimes to get Haga to calm down. Of course we were going to lose some business because of that new place, but that won’t stop us from making the best coffee on the island.

Hopefully.

 

~~~

 

I don’t think I ever saw a break in that Platinum shop. Customers were always going in and out with smiles on their faces. They were having more business in a week than we would in a month.

I think the worst part is as their lines grow bigger, ours get smaller. Weeks went by with the same old, same old. Mizuki and I weren’t being called in as much because of our lack of regular customers. It did start get tick me off. I was so used to everyone talking about _our_ shop, not someone else’s.

My shift was dragging on in particular today. I kept falling asleep on my feet. Morning shifts were always horrible. I was begging for something to wake me up.

Sure enough, it did come.

I had bent down to grab some extra straws below the counter cabinets. I popped back up on my feet, and I was pretty sure I almost had a heart attack. Inches away from my face was...a gas mask. An authentic gas mask like the kind exterminators use with huge glass eyes and large, round ventilators near the mouth. I cried out in terror from the peculiar picture.

“Good morning, Mister Aoba!!” the figure said in some kind of singing voice.

My hand was clutching my chest right over my heart as I was catching my breath. After regaining myself from the shock of the gas mask, I looked the figure over. They (I had no idea whether this person was a boy or a girl, that gas mask concealed their entire face) had white hair that matched the exact color of the white trenchcoat and gloves. Their shirt that was a bit too small for their body revealed a sliver of their stomach. Around their neck was a bright chartreuse scarf with the tail ends hanging right in the middle.

“Who...what?” I stuttered.

“I heard you, so I came!” They giggled.

“Uh...okay?”

“Ah, there you are!” Haga appeared from the backroom and stood next to me. “I’m so glad you could make it! Welcome to your first day!”

“First day?” I turned to Haga with confusion written all over my face.

“Yes, yes. Aoba, this is our newest employee. Well, trainee for now. He goes by the name Clear.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mister Aoba!” Clear bowed at the waist to me.

“But where….are you sure this doesn’t have to do with your resentment against the new coffee shop across the street?” I kept looking back and forth from my boss to my new coworker.

“What? No!” Haga threw his head back in laughter, obviously faking an answer. “I know how much you and Mizuki hate cleaning, so I thought I could hire a little extra help around here.”

“We never said that!” I exclaimed defensively. “Mizuki and I run the place just fine!”

“Aoba, I know you’re not too fond of change, but let’s just give it a try. Clear is a very nice young man who seems really eager to work here. I’ve assigned you to help train him for the next few weeks, or just until he gets the hang of it around here.”

“What?! Why me? Mizuki’s worked here longer, he’s like a manager!”

“Because you’re good with people and I trust you to teach him what he needs to know. Now no more arguing about this.” I tried to open my mouth to retaliate, but he held up his index finger at me to silence me. He turned to Clear with a grin. “Aoba will help you with everything. If you have any questions, feel free to ask him or me, alright?”

“Yes, Haga!” Clear bowed again, and Haga returned to his office.

Great. Just great. I thought having a new worker here was bad enough, but now I have to keep my eye on him all the time? Last time I checked, this wasn’t a babysitting service.

I sighed heavily and faced Clear. “Alright, I guess you’re my responsibility now. What exactly is your job?”

“Haga told me that I will be like a busboy and to always keep the Ol’ District Coffee Shop in good and sanitary condition, Mister Aoba!” He clapped his hands together.  
“Woah, woah, slow down, okay. First thing’s first: I’m not your boss. You don’t have to call me Mister. It’s Haga that you want to call Mister when he’s around. That’s a respect thing.”

“But… I work for you, Mister Aoba. I must call you Mister!”

“Nooo, you and I work for Haga since he owns the place. I just have to train you.”

He cocked his head to the side, but didn’t respond.

“Also, quick question - why are you wearing the…?” I pointed to my own face to signal the giant hunk of metal on his face.

“Oh, this! I must wear it always.”

“Yeah, but why?”

“I must! I must!”

“O...kay, then. Just don’t scare me with it again.” I pinched the bridge of my nose with two fingers while Clear was nodding happily. “Let’s see, how do you teach someone how to clean…?”

“Oh, I know how to clean, Mister Aoba! I do it all the time!”

I scoffed, more at myself than anything. “Good, that makes my job a lot easier. I think Haga is wanting you to just keep the place running: cleaning the bathrooms, throwing away trash that’s left behind, the small stuff.”

“Yes, Mister Aoba!”

“Please don’t call….never mind, you can do what you want. Oh, and you’ll need to wear this.” I reached for the extra black apron on the hook adjacent to mine and handed it to him. “Required uniform.”

“Thank you, Mister Aoba!” He bowed to me, and I couldn’t help but smile. At least he’s formal and has manners. Maybe his positivity is just what we need around here.

 

~~~

 

It’s only been a few days and I’m not sure if I can handle our new little busboy.

Don’t get me wrong, he’s really friendly to everyone and he hasn’t caused any problems. He’s just so... _odd_. He’s not normal. At least, he doesn’t act like the people around here.

For example, he hasn’t taken off that creepy gas mask since I first met him. He doesn’t even need it; the only “harmful” chemicals he comes in contact with are Febreeze and a little bit of bleach to clean the toilet. How can he breathe in that thing? Doesn’t it get hot in that? I’ve been wanting to ask all sorts of questions about his lifestyle, but I decided not to since it might be rude.

Also, his choice of words can take some people aback. There’s a difference between having manners and having the formality of talking to the Queen of England. It’s not a bad thing, and I certainly don’t want to criticize him too quickly. I’ve been giving him the benefit of the doubt since, of course, because all people are raised differently.

Speaking of which…

“Hey, Clear?”

He perked his head up, looking (or at least I think he was, I can’t see his eyes within the mask) at my direction. His speech was a bit muffled because of it, as well. “Yes, Mister Aoba?”

“Where are you from?”  
“I’m from my grandfather’s house.”

“No, I mean, have you always lived on the island?”

“Oh yes, Mister Aoba! I was born here! But I have lived with my grandfather for as long as I can remember.”

My curiosity was growing, and I couldn’t help it. “I see. Well, where's your mom and dad? Sorry if that’s too personal…”

“No, no, Mister Aoba! I don’t mind! I did not know my mother, but my father...I was not wanted by him because I was different, so he gave me up when I was small.”

Shit. Now I felt the guilt. No wonder he seemed a bit off - he didn’t have the best home life growing up. Knowing your father doesn’t love you can really be damaging. I knew I was judging him too harshly.

“But it is alright!” he continued. “He loves my younger brothers very much!”

“You have siblings?” I asked.

“Yes, Mister Aoba. We are actually identical triplets.” He then pointed towards the glass door. “My father and two brothers are very happy over there!”

“Huh?” My eyes followed where his fingers pointed. I soon realized that he wasn’t indicating the door.

It was outside. Straight to the Platinum Coffee House.

“Wait a second...Clear, your family works at the coffee shop across the street?!”

“Not just work, Mister Aoba. They own it!” His happy-go-lucky voice hadn’t changed. It’s like it didn’t even bother him that those were the same people sucking our business dry.

“And do they know you’re here?”

“No, Mister Aoba. My family has not contacted me since my departing. Once I heard the news of their success, I knew I wanted to work in the same kind of job. So I came here!”

This is unbelievable. A relative of our rivals is alongside us. Should I tell Haga or would that just upset him more? How am I supposed to treat Clear now that I know this information about him? It made me wonder what he did that was so wrong in his father’s eyes to have Clear be sent away. Although I was interested in his history, this wasn’t a time for an interview.

“Really? Hmm, I wonder if your brothers are as weird as you are…” I mumbled to myself.  
“Pardon, Mister Aoba?”

“Oh, nothing.”

Clear sighed happily, shoving his hands in his coat pockets. I could only stare at him, my eyes traveling up and down as if to receive some sort of signal from him. Nothing about him made sense. But there’s nothing I can do. I know I’m not supposed to judge people based on what they look like or who they are. He’s here, with a job, and I’m just going to have to get over it.

  
~~~

By the time my shift ended, I was shaking my head furiously just to keep myself awake. Even though it was almost sunset, I felt like I could collapse and sleep for hours. My pulsing headache wasn’t helping, either. It developed by mid-afternoon and unfortunately, I didn’t take my medication this morning.

Rubbing my temples, I called to the Haga’s office. "Alright, Mr. Haga. I'm off!"

Haga appeared and smiled his trusty grin. "Good seeing you today, lad!" He then turned to Clear. "Young man, you've been working your tail off all day, so you deserve a break for once. I'll let you off now."

Odd. Haga is a good man, but I've never seen him so generous. He's not one to hand out breaks so easily.

Clear, at the time, was dusting off some counters. He spun around on his heels to see Haga and clapped his hands together. "Really? Oh thank you, Haga! I'm very grateful!"

The lack of a title to his name must have thrown Haga off. "Um, yes. You both be safe and have a good night."

I was already to the door when Clear skipped over to me. “Have a good night, Mister Aoba!” He then gently touched my arm.

It made me pause for a moment. It was a small gesture, but I could feel my face slowly heating up. I have no idea why, but something about it almost made me feel...nice.

“Yeah, you too.” It was an automatic response, but that’s not exactly what I wanted to say. Clear had begun to walk away, but I blurted out to him. “Hey, Clear?”

He turned around to see me, but the gas mask blocked any kind of expression on his face. “Yes, Mister Aoba?”

“You got a place to stay...right?” For some reason, hearing parts of his backstory about his father exiling him made me think he was homeless or something.

Not that I was totally concerned or anything. I just wanted to make sure he was okay. That was it. Even someone as annoying as him deserves better than what he’s been given.

I heard him let out a chuckle. “Oh yes, Mister Aoba. I have a very small home out of the city limits. I can very much take care of myself!”

“Yourself?  I thought you lived with your grandfather?”

Clear fell silent, his head tilted down to the ground. His voice turned somber. “He passed away a few years ago. It is just me.”

I blinked a few times. His story just keeps getting worse. There was no indication before that his grandfather was dead. For once, I was at a loss for words.

“I-I’m so sorry, Clear…”

“Thank you, Mister Aoba.” Behind all of the metal on his face, behind the glass lenses, I could hear his smile.

I really admire people like him - the ones that can have so much bad stuff dealt to them in life, but still find reasons to be happy. I wish we had more people like that.

I was looking at the ground, as well, rubbing the back of my neck. “Listen, if you ever fall in hard times, or just need some company, you can always-”

I looked back up again. He was gone. I didn’t even hear him walk away. What was he, a ghost? My eyes searched around the street and through some crowds of pedestrians, but he wasn’t anywhere.

My heart sunk a bit. The setting sun painted the surrounding buildings mixtures of oranges and reds, my signal that it was time to head home. My feet began to trudge me down the usual street home without me realizing it.

I didn’t know how much of my offer he heard, but I hope he got the idea.

 

“Granny, I’m home!” I called out towards the long front hallway. I took off my shoes right next to the door as well as sliding my jacket off and put it on the coat rack. It was quiet for a second until a booming voice roared at me.

“ _Aoba Seragaki!!_ ”

Shit. When she uses my full name like that, I know I’m in trouble.

“Uh...yes, Granny?” Although I’ve been through this a thousand times, it still never ceases to scare the daylight out of me when she scolds me. I braced myself, wondering what I could have possibly done this time.

With her back hunched over, Granny shuffled into the hallway from the living room, eyes flaming with rage. “This is the sixth time you’ve forgotten to lock the front door when you leave, boy! What’s it going to take to get it through that head of yours to remember?”

Her voice has gotten raspier over the years, probably due to her aging. It’s weird, though - she still looks exactly as I remember her when I was a kid. Her hairdo was always tied back and very traditional, and it always had a slight pink tint to it. I knew she wasn’t my biological grandmother because I didn’t look like her. My mother did, but there was no blood relation with the two. In fact, the three Seragaki generations were all adopted: Granny adopted my mother, and my parents took me in as a child. Apparently, Dad found me at a church on the beach when he and Mom were young and in love. I’m not sure if I totally believe that story, but seeing that I can’t remember much, I might as well.

I slapped my palm to my forehead. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Granny! I was running late for work and I just-”

“No excuses! One of these days, child, I’m going to…” She was growling, and I could see a vein tracing up the side of her face. She must really be angry. Granny was the type to blow things out of proportion since she was one tough lady. I need to calm her down. Isn’t it unhealthy for old people to get their blood pressure worked up?

Holding my hands up in defense, I spoke kindly. “Easy, Granny, easy! I-It won’t happen again, I promise! How about I make dinner tonight for the two of us?” I wasn’t the best cook, but a little bribery never hurt.

She sighed heavily. Good, she was coming back down. “You cause more trouble than you’re worth. I don’t know how I do it.”

I forced a laughter. Most people would think she verbally abuses me, and while that may be partially true, it’s how she’s always shown her affection. She’s the type to execute tough love. I really don’t mind it since I’ve gotten used to it. It’s how I know Granny is alright. If one day she ever did treat me like a little angel, I would know something was terribly wrong.

I follow her into the kitchen, and we begin preparing dinner together. She told me to make some stir fry “because it’s the only dish that you (meaning me) can’t screw up,” as she put it. That Granny for you…

I added some side dishes of rice and mixed vegetables since it’s some of Granny’s favorites. I laid out all of the utensils and bowls, setting the table and I carefully watched the wok. After I served myself and her, we sat next to each other at the table, gave our thanks, and dug right in.

It was probably the best meal I’ve ever made, which is a huge compliment to myself considering everything I cook is mediocre and bland in flavor. Granny gave me some tips on different sauces and spices to add to the stir fry, and that made a world of a difference.

We had some small talk of our day. Granny explained to me some new and really fascinating medicinal research she’s been working on about memory. I told her about the latest news in the shop. Granny has only stopped by once or twice at my work. She’s not a coffee drinker, but she does like the breakfast pastries we have. Sometimes she’ll ask me to sneak a few muffins or croissants in my bag for her.

Talking about work made me think of Clear. What if he’s not okay? What if he’s just saying he can take care of himself so I don’t worry about him? He _would_ do something like that, but that makes me feel awful knowing I couldn’t help him.

I suddenly lost my appetite at the thought. Gulping down my bite of chicken, I gathered up my dishes and washed them out in the sink. “Thank you for your help, Granny. It really was delicious.”

“Yes, yes. Don’t think I haven’t forgotten about the unlocked door.”

“Right. I promise it won’t happen again.” Leaning down, I gave Granny a quick peck on her head. I know she doesn’t like physical affection, but it did get a smile out of her. I am her grandson, after all.

I scratched my head as I made my way up the stairs. My roots felt really tender today, probably because it’s in a ponytail all the time. The wooden stairs creaked beneath my feet, and the knot in my stomach still hadn’t gone away.

Once I was in my room, I didn’t know what to do. I wasn’t tired enough to sleep, I wasn’t bored enough to get on the computer, I _definitely_ wasn’t active enough to leave the house. I just stood in the middle of my room, hands in my pockets, looking around at the scattered clothes on the floor and unmade sheets on my bed.

Suddenly, I felt a brisk chill against me. It’s never cold in my room; the heat always rises in the house upstairs. The culprit was the veranda sliding door that was cracked open. Granny must have left it open to cool my room. Instead of closing it, I opened the door wider and walked outside.

For some reason, my room is the only room with a tiny balcony with a blue tin awning.  It was a stupid idea to put this in instead of a window because there’s no spectacular view. I never come out here. Monotonous gray building surround us, clotheslines strung from one side to the other. I could see a few windows here and there shining with light with wide-awake neighbors. In the distance, car horns and citylife noises could be heard, but overall it was pretty peaceful. I gripped the balcony ledge, a finger idly twirling a strand of my hair.

Singing. There was someone singing. It wasn’t a woman’s singing, either. The melody was simple yet beautiful. I could tell it wasn’t too far away. I examined each window nearby, but all of them were closed.

“Mister Aoba! Mister Aoba! I’m up here!”

It can’t be. It _can’t_ be. I tilted my head back to look up towards the sky, and there he was. The silhouette of man wearing a trench coat could be made out against the dark night on the rooftop across from my building. He was waving his arm back and forth.

I was half-whispering, half-yelling, just in case there were people sleeping. “Clear?! What are you doing up there?!”

“I heard you, so I came!” he said, giggling. I had no idea what that meant. Clear was stepping one foot in front of the other, both arms out and tipping around like he was on a tightrope. “Mister Aoba, you should join me!”

“Get down! You’re going to fall!” He wasn’t listening to me. These buildings weren’t new, so their foundation and structure might not be sturdy. I then remembered there was a fire escape ladder to my right that went up to the roof. With each rung, I climbed up and shimmied my way on.

I really don’t like heights, especially at heights where if I fall, I could die. I could feel my breath starting to pick up, but I needed to relax myself. I closed my eyes for a few seconds, and slowly stood up.

Thankfully, there wasn’t any wind to throw me off balance. I began to walk up, forgetting about looking for Clear and instead worrying about the possible dangers of being up here. The roof was holding my weight, and I gradually eased up.

I stepped my right foot down, and my heart stopped.

One of the shingles must have been loose. It broke and slipped beneath me, causing me to lurch forward. I was only wearing socks, so I couldn’t find any traction to stop myself.  I cried out in shock, flailing my arms forward in order to catch myself. This was it - my worst fear was happening to me and there wasn’t anyone that knew I was up here.

Except one.

Something hooked underneath my arms, catching me just as my feet were hanging off the ledge. It hoisted me up, planting me upright again but still not letting go.

“I’ve got you, Mister Aoba.”

Trembling, I pulled myself to Clear for support. My arms fastened around his neck. “Clear..what happened..?”

“You tripped, Mister Aoba. I saw you were in trouble, so I caught you. Come with me.” He seemed completely calm despite the fact I almost fell off a roof. He led me towards the center, walking away from the veranda. “Sit here, Mister Aoba. Catch your breath.”

I was still breathing pretty hard. We sat down together as I let go of him steadying me.

“Clear, thank you. If you weren’t there, I could’ve-”

“I know, Mister Aoba. It’s alright.” After a few moments, Clear leaned back on his palms to look up towards the sky. “Isn’t it beautiful, Mister Aoba?”

I looked up as well, and my mouth fell open. Clumps of stars littered the sky. The little white specks faintly twinkled near the crescent moon tonight. I couldn’t see this view from the little balcony down there because of the lights and other buildings in the way.

“Wow…” I sighed, my eyes scanning across the night.

“What do you think the universe is, Mister Aoba?”

“Huh?” I glanced at him, but he didn’t move.

“The universe. What do you know about it?”

I tried to think back to 8th grade science class. “Uh, it’s enormous, I guess. All of the stars in the sky are millions of light years away, and there are so many-”

“No, Mister Aoba. Not just the facts, but the possibilities.”

“I’m not quite sure what you mean.”

Clear pointed up to no particular thing. “The universe is infinite. That means that all things, all _life,_ is infinite. We are born, we live, and we die, but there is another universe where we are born again and again and again.”

I furrowed my brow together. “Do you like philosophy or something?”

“You could say that, Mister Aoba. But I question existence, what life means to me, and how much we all truly matter in this one point of time.”

Astronomy has never been an easy subject for me. I’m not very good with abstract ideas, so trying to wrap my brain around theories and stuff can be really confusing. Clear could probably see how lost I was, so he laughed. “Think of it this way, Mister Aoba: if the universe is infinite, that means there’s a universe where we have wings and can fly. There’s a universe where everyone has six legs. There’s even a universe where everything is exactly the same except you’re wearing different colored socks.”

I instinctively noticed my pastel yellow socks, wondering what color they _would_ be in that other universe. I nodded my head to him, surprised that he could explain it so well. Even the littlest changes to our world could be out there…

Not wanting to delve too deeply in the conversation, I switched gears. “Clear, why do you wear that gas mask? And don’t say because you just do. Why do you really wear it?”

His fingers reached up to touch the front of the mask as if pondering the question. His smooth voice soon broke the silence. “I don’t want you to hate me.”

“What?”

“If I take it off, you will see my face, Mister Aoba. You will hate me if you see it.”

“Oh come on, that’s not true. What, you think you’re ugly or something?” I tried to make light of the situation, chuckling softly. Clear wasn’t laughing.

“Yes.”

I stopped, my face losing all humor. “So you’re hiding who you are behind a gas mask? People aren’t going to laugh at you because of the way you look, that’s just cruel. Who told you that?”  
“My grandfather.”

“Your own grandfather told you you’re ugly?”

“Well…” Clear bowed his head down. “One day, before my grandfather passed away, he told me to always hide myself. ‘Do not let anyone see you,’ he said. ‘You are different from the others.’ He gave me this mask to shield my face. He even covered up the one mirror in my room with a sheet and told me to never take it off, to never look at myself and think I was normal. One morning, I decided to tell him that I didn’t want to live this way, but when I went to check on him in bed, he didn’t wake up…”

“Clear, I...I’m so sorry..” I knew that probably wasn’t what he wanted to hear at the moment, but it was the only thing I could think of. I formed my words carefully, hoping not to step across a line.

“Family is…can be really difficult sometimes. They may be related to you, but that doesn’t mean they can’t hurt you. Sometimes they might say things or do things that put you down, on accident or otherwise, but…I can tell you’re much stronger than people think you are.” At some point during my speech, my hand had laid on top of his that rested between the space of our bodies.

“But, Mister Aoba, what if he’s right?”

I shook my head. “With all due respect, I don’t think he is. Maybe you could take off the mask and let me see?”

He jerked his head up to look at me, speaking frantically. “I can’t. I can’t. I’m not normal. You’ll hate me. I can’t have you hate me, Mister Aoba.”

I smiled softly, squeezing his hand to tell him to calm down. “Clear. Listen to me. I won’t hate you. I promise. I won’t force you to take it off, but I’d like you to.”

I could tell he was struggling with the idea. His breaths filtered out through the large holes on the mask. “Okay...I’ll do it for you, Mister Aoba.”

His other hand took hold of the front of the mask. He paused, most likely questioning his decision. There really was something holding him back. Maybe it was a bad scar or birthmark covering his face. I thought he almost wasn’t going to do it because of how hesitant he was.

But he did it. Pulling the mask backward over his head, he had stripped himself of his only barrier against the world.

He was much more handsome than I imagined. His eyes locked with mine, and they were a color I had never seen in anyone else: pink. The moon reflected in them, creating a shining highlight right near his pupils. I wondered if they were contacts or if this was his natural color. His skin was flawless, as well. There was no scratch, no twisted blemish. The only imperfection (if you could call it an imperfection) were two small moles on the right side of his chin, one above the other.

I couldn’t help but smile wider. “Clear, you’re perfect.”

“I’m...perfect?”

“Yes. You look just like me.”

“I look like you, Mister Aoba?!” His eyebrows raised up like he was alarmed.

“Well, not _exactly_ like me. I mean that you have two eyes, a nose, a mouth, everything that should be there. You look like any other human being.”

“Any other human being…” Clear repeated in an awed whisper.

I don’t know what it was right then, but I felt something different in my heart than I had any other time I had known him. He’s never shown his face to any other person, let alone looked at himself in a mirror. Seeing him for how he truly was instead of in some creepy disguise brought warm feelings to me.

“Clear? What about here?”  
“Hmm?” He cocked his head to the side, his bangs almost sweeping over one of his eyes.

My voice was more hushed now considered we had leaned in further towards each other. “The infinite universes. You mentioned different possibilities, but you didn’t talk about _this_ universe. What is it?”

“ _This_ universe?” he questioned. He studied me for a few seconds. My heart was pounding in my chest with each moment that passed. His free hand had found its way to my cheek, and I could see his body inching towards me, our space closing in. “Well, in _this_ universe, I think...I’m falling…for…”

My eyes had closed, and I leaned in, too, right before his lips met mine.

 

~~~

 

I don’t know what’s worse - waking up super early for the morning shift, or having to adjust my entire day schedule around the night shift.

At least I was productive today. Going grocery shopping really helps me in a lot of ways. For one, it’s one of the only times I get to go out alone. Second, it’s for Granny. I do most of the chores around the house, but it’s all for her. I don’t like to think about her working too much or going off alone, even if it is to the supermarket. She’s tough and can spit fire when needed, I’ll give her that, but she’s still a small and aging woman.

She’s the only family I’ve got.

I walked through the coffee shop entrance just a few minutes before my appointed time. I greeted Haga and, standing next to him, Clear. I was anticipating him not wearing his mask, but there it was.

“Good evening, Mister Aoba!”

“Hey Clear. How are you?”  
“I am wonderful! We get to work together tonight, Mister Aoba!” He was bouncing on the balls of his feet like some giddy child.

“That’s...good.” I didn’t know how to respond to such a statement. We usually had the same schedule anyway, so it’s not a huge surprise to see him here tonight.

As I reached for my apron uniform, I noticed something resting against the wall under it. An umbrella. The fabric of the umbrella was transparent, but it didn’t look like it had been used recently.

“Hey, who’s umbrella is this?” I asked.

“That would be mine, Mister Aoba!” Clear answered with no hesitation.

“Yes, that would be Clear’s,” Haga added. “He brought it in today. Still had it open, too, when he was trying to fit through the door! Sure was funny to see him try!”

“But why’d you bring an umbrella? It didn’t rain today.”

“I always carry my umbrella with me, Mister Aoba.”

My face contorted slightly at the response. I really hate it when he does that: no concrete information, just something enigmatic. “But what would you need it fo-”

Haga suddenly clapped his hands together. “Alright, boys! Enough chit-chat! We’re almost done with the day, so let’s end it on a good note!” With that, Haga disappeared into the back room and shut door.

I let out a vocal sigh, giving up on my questionnaire. I can never win with this guy. Clear gives me a slight bow with his head and scuttles to the bathroom, most likely to start scrubbing the floors.

I have to admit, he does his job well. I never really see him stop to take a break. The whole coffee shop smells fresher and it actually stays clean throughout the day. Mizuki was usually in charge of cleaning before Clear got here, but he’d always half-ass everything so it wasn't easy to rely on him.

“...Yes, sir, I’ll have that right out!” I responded after handing a customer his change. He wanted a caramel frappuccino. Easy. Pouring some ice and various syrups in, I filled up the blender container and locked it in and closed the lid. I selected the middle button and the machine started whirring.

“Mister Aoba, what is that noise?” Clear had poked his head around the corner, sounding genuinely concerned.

“You mean the blender?” I motioned my thumb behind me.

Clear stepped behind me to lean in close to it, squinting his eyes. “Blender?”

“Yeah, a blender. Does what it sounds like. There are blades at the bottom of it and you put stuff in and it just mixes it all together. It’s how we make our frappes. Hence _blended_ coffee.” I wasn’t paying attention to him as I continued working.

I could hear a faint “wow” coming from Clear. Either he lives under a rock or just doesn’t have a blender at home. Either way, people were definitely staring.

“Alright, Clear. It’s not rocket science. You don’t have to-”

By the time I turned around to see him, the disaster had already struck.

It all happened at once - the buzzing sound getting louder, Clear’s shriek, the wet liquid splashing on me and everything else in a 5 foot radius.

“I’m sorry, Mister Aoba!!” Clear shouted over the noise. After wiping my eyes clean, I caught a glimpse of him frantically trying to put the lid back in place.

“Move!!” I grabbed the lid from his hands and smashed it back on the machine. I didn’t even press the power button, I just pulled the plug right of the electrical socket.

The whirring sound died down, and then it was quiet.

I was drenched in coffee and so was Clear. The countertops were dripping as well. With all of the ice I added, the mixture chilled my skin. I could feel my hair sopping it all up and getting sticky.

Haga immediately came out from the back room, and his jaw dropped. “What happened?!”

Clear quickly bowed at the waist, almost at a 90 degree angle. “I’m so sorry, Haga! I wanted to know how this thing called a blender worked so I took the top off and then it all went everywhere!”

Haga then looked at me for some kind of explanation. “Why did you let him do that, Aoba?!”

“I-I didn’t see him! I didn’t know he was going to-”

“Enough,” Haga said, holding up a hand. He sounded more defeated than angry. “Just...clean it up. I don’t care how, just clean up this mess.”

My hands balled into fists. I wanted to punch something, but I didn’t know what. Clear because of his stupidity? My boss because I was the one that got in trouble? A wall because it was the closest thing near me?

“Mister Aoba…”

“Get the mop,” I snapped at him. Refusing to listen to any more apologies, I stormed into the restroom, the public’s eyes following me.

I had no extra clothes, so I tried my best to scrub out the coffee with a wet paper towel. I ran my fingers through my hair with some tap water and wiped off the excess from my skin. I was damp, cold, and bottled up with anger.

Damn Clear. _Damn_ _him_. What kind of idiot decides to take the top off a running blender? Why would he be so stupid? Did he have any common sense?

_Why couldn’t he just be normal?_

My mind then flashed back to the night before, to everything he told me of his life. I had to be careful with Clear. He wasn’t normal. Everyone knew he wasn’t, and even he knew it too.

I felt terrible for thinking such things about him. Obviously he didn’t know any better, the guy didn’t know what a blender was in the first place. Everyday objects and events were privileges to him. He appreciated the normal, even though deep down, he knew he could never be.

I collected myself before stepping out of the bathroom, acting as if nothing had happened so as to not cause a bigger scene. Clear must’ve mopped super quickly because the floor was clean. He was scrubbing some spots on the counter. He saw me come out, and his tail was definitely tucked between his legs.

“Thank you for cleaning up,” I said casually. “Just...don’t do that again, okay?”

“I’m sorry, Mister Aoba.”  
“It’s alright. Haga will get over it eventually.” At least, I hoped he would. This was probably going to be on my head. “Hey, I can get the rest of the counter. Why don’t you dry yourself off in the bathroom? You’ve still got some coffee on you.”

Clear examined his trench coat that now had brown patchy stains. “Yes, Mister Aoba.” He handed me the rag and trudged towards the bathroom.

The whole ordeal was settled after 10 minutes. I gave the customer with the exploding coffee a few discount coupons for next time, if there was a next time. The workspace was clean, despite some areas still being sticky and smelling of cream and caramel.

 

Closing time had arrived at last. I was on my toes for the rest of the night after what happened, watching every coffee I prepared like a hawk. Oddly enough, I don’t ever remember seeing Clear after I told him to wash himself. Even though the original customers that saw everything were long gone at this point, he must have felt too embarrassed to be out in the open. Poor kid.

The last few mingling customers headed out the door, chatting with their to-go cups. Immediately, I flipped the sign on the door to read CLOSED. I let out a sigh, thanking the time for having flown by.

Haga came out, keys in hand, and locked the back room behind him. “Alright, Aoba, because of our little incident today, I’m going to leave post-duty to you and Clear.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Keep an eye on him, please.”

“Yes, sir,” I mumbled.

He looked exhausted. Haga would always stay with us whenever it was time for post-duty, but I guess today wiped him out. I decided not to argue with him. I wished him a good night, and he waved to me before leaving the shop.

“Did you hear that, Clear? We have to stay, so let’s clean up shop so we can get outta here as soon as possible,” I called out behind me. No response. “Clear, I know you’re here. Where are you?” Still nothing.

I poked my head into the restroom, but he wasn’t in there. I never saw him come out, though. Was I just not looking and he snuck by me?

“Okay, fine. I’ll just do it without help.” I really didn’t feel like playing any games, if this was one. Before I could start getting everything, I heard a faint whining. It sounded as if it was coming from the supply closet, which is adjacent to the storage back room. The difference between the two was the supply closet was where all of our cleaning utilities were, so it was much smaller than Haga’s office.

I turned the knob and opened the door. There was Clear, sitting on the floor with his knees to his chest.

“Clear? Are you okay?” I shut the door behind me and knelt before him.

“I’m sorry about today, Mister Aoba. I did something bad and you got in trouble and now you’re mad at me…” He sounded as if he was crying behind his mask.

“No, no, I’m not mad. I didn’t mean to bark at you like that when it happened, I was just freaking out. And Haga and I are fine.”

“Will you still get to work here?”

I chuckled. “Yes, I do. He didn’t fire me. Our ‘punishment’ is the same task all night employees have to do. It was an accident, it’s okay.”

I held out my hand to help him up and he stared at it. Finally, he obliged, grasping it firmly as I yanked him on his feet.

“Come on, we’ve got some chores to do,” I said. I turned my back to him, and then I felt something snaking around my waist. Clear was...holding me. He was a bit taller than me, so his forehead rested on the back of my neck. I could feel the gas mask pressing somewhat into my shoulder blades.

“Thank you, Mister Aoba,” he murmured.

My hands cupped over his for a minute or so as we just stood there, our bodies radiating off the other’s heat. I twisted myself around, Clear’s arms still around me, so I could face him. I wanted that gas mask gone, I needed to see his face. Slowly, I took hold of the front of it. Clear froze for a bit, realizing what I was trying to do, so I stopped.

“...It’s alright, Mister Aoba,” he whispered. “Please.” Knowing that I had his permission, I slid it off of his head and dropped it to the floor. There before me was his beautiful face once more, his enchanting eyes still a little wet from crying.

One tear did fall down his cheek, leaving a tiny trail as it traveled. I kissed it before it fell his chin. Clear took in a small gasp, my overwhelming instincts pushing me over the edge. I pressed our lips together, taking in the sweet taste that I still hadn’t forgotten.

Clear’s entire demeanor shifted. His muscles relaxed around me. Our kiss only deepened a rather fast rate. I could feel him edging me backwards and I mimicked his movements. I soon felt my back meet with the door, some of Clear’s weight pressing into me. Being a bit shorter, I wasn’t one to resist his advancement. The gloved hands had slipped their way to grasp my waist for support.

I had wondered in those minutes whether Clear had done this before. He certainly didn’t seem like the type to go around making out with other people, but he knew how to kiss well. Here and there, little moans escaped his lips along with our hot breaths exchanging back and forth, so he was obviously enjoying himself. It was then I made my decision to test the waters - one of my hands dropped from around his neck to gingerly sweep over his hip and down towards the front. Clear jolted at the new touch below, and I could make out a rising bulge in his crotch.

Now granted, I’ve kissed other boys before in the past, but I’ve never gone farther than that. The thought of sex tended to freak me out a little because I had no experience. However, I _wanted_ him, and that’s the first time I could admit to such a hunger. There was something inside of me that ached me, turning me on to know I was the cause of Clear’s arousal.

They say that you can get caught up in the midst of sexual hormones, usually by doing things or whispering dirty nothings that you thought you’d never be brave enough to do normally. As a witness firsthand, I can testify that they were absolutely correct.

I sunk down to a kneeling position in front of him, and his eyes grew wider. “M-Mister Aoba, um…” Either I already had terrible hearing or these emotions were making me tune him out, because I really didn’t want to listen. He knew what I was up to, he wasn’t completely oblivious. My anticipating fingers messily undid the button of his trousers, gliding the zipper downwards. At this point, I really didn’t care how unclassy I was being; I lazily yanked the hem down, enough to pass the curve of his ass.

During this time, Clear’s erection, I could tell, was straining more and more against the fabric that held it taut. I locked my lips on his underwear, following the indents of where his dick was. I sucked until it became moist underneath my tongue. Clear seemed a bit lost, probably due to my sudden courage. His fingers sprawled across the wooden finish of the door as he hunched over, hanging his head yet not taking his eyes off of me.

Knuckles hooking into the seam of his boxers, I inched them down until his cock had sprung free centimeters away from my face. He was surprisingly hard to where curvature of his member reached beautifully upwards. It was my first time handling another man’s cock, so of course, the colors on my face amplified to bright red.

Hearing a few puffs of his breath, I gave him a few strokes and glanced upwards for a reaction. His eyes met mine, and I almost lost my entire focus. There wasn’t any fear in his eyes, but something much more. Those pink irises gleamed with a new kind of light as if to say _keep going_.

And god, I didn’t stop.

I parted my mouth open, letting the head of his dick grace in and out on my tongue. I could taste something a bit salty from his slit. Holding him at the base, I eased myself onto it, my lips continuously sucking gently. It was much harder than I imagined; he felt much bigger in my mouth than just looking at him. At first, I could only get halfway down, in fear that I was going to set off my gag reflex, but my saliva building up was making it less difficult to slick past me.

“Mister..Aoba, mmph..!”

His hips were subtly pushing forward, tensing at each little movement. Finally, I just pressed my free hand on his behind, encouraging Clear to let himself give me small thrusts. He and I were both vocalizing in our own ways: the sucking on my end produced wet and sloppy noises while Clear was just trying to keep himself from hitching his rapid breath.

“Mister Aoba,” Clear said in a more firm voice. He took a fistful of my hair and yanked it back to get my attention. I stopped to look up at him, afraid that I might’ve done something wrong or hurt him.

“Yeah?”

“Stand up.”

I was a little puzzled by his request. He must not want to come. Not yet, at least, but I complied. I pushed myself off of my knees. From there, Clear took hold of my waist and turned me 180 degrees so that I was now facing the door. He leaned into me, his lips grazing next to me ear. “I want to please you, Mister Aoba.”

Now it was my breathing that was getting faster. I knew exactly what he meant by that. To be honest, I was scared since I’ve never done anything like this before.

But I trusted Clear, and he trusted me. Because of that, this wouldn’t be something I’d regret.

My arms rested in front of me to support myself. Clear began to undo my jeans, the rustling of fabric being the only sound. The strain against my own growing erection was easing as he tugged my pants down to my knees along with my underwear.

I couldn’t see Clear’s face. I don’t know what he’s thinking or feeling or how he’s reacting. I had to rely on his touch now when it wandered all across my hips and the small of my back. Even though his hands and fingers still had gloves over them, my skin felt like it was on fire.

I felt something wet against my entrance, and then pressure. He was entering me without any warning. It shocked me to the core. Clear had rested his chin on my shoulder as he slowly, steadily, filled me.

Sensations of all kinds rushed through me, my mind trying to process everything that was happening. My insides were stretching with pain, and a strained whine escape my clenched throat. My own desires weren’t being fulfilled - I hadn’t even touched myself since Clear had taken my pants off. I was flooded with a sudden warmth, both internally and externally, that felt so amazingly _good_.

After some time, Clear stopped moving. I almost didn’t believe this was happening, like Clear wasn’t behind me about to fuck me. I rutted my hips backwards a smidgen, and he was, in fact, all the way in.

Clear let out a heavy sigh, the air whistling past my ear and making me shudder. He must be feeling the same surreal shock as me. He started to rock his pelvis back and forth, adjusting to how tight I was.

“A-Ahh, ohh…” I couldn’t form words. The more my body got used to the foreign object in me, the more the throbbing pain mixed into an oozing pleasure. The rhythm of Clear’s thrusts gradually quickened. Knees buckled and wobbling, I scratched at the wooden door for some kind of support besides Clear’s arms. I had forgotten where I was, what time it was, any sort of outside responsibility as I was dragged into our own world of sexual enchantment.

I was genuinely curious as to how Clear was managing all of this. Judging by his childish mannerisms in everyday life, he was a virgin, but he sure didn’t act like it now. He wasn’t rigid or clumsy in how he rammed into me. At some point in our blurred haze, he had gently bitten my earlobe. I was more aroused by that than I thought I would be.

An unexpected wave of sensation pulsed through my lower half. I let my head droop down and I saw Clear had taken hold of my cock, stroking it entirely. His actions were too cautious and drawn-out for me in the state I was in. I became gluttonous, overwhelmed with the need for _more_. I jerked myself forward, silently begging Clear not to stop. He sensed my greed and pumped faster, about the same pace as his thrusts.

“Clear!!” I was reaching my limit; the sweat and increasing stimulus was enough indication. Soft lips were marking small kisses up and down my neck. Before I could compose myself, the final and biggest rush of energy surged through me, peaking me into orgasm. I could feel the warm and sticky liquid trickling down my dick, and I noticed that some of my cum had found its way on the door. Clear must have come at the same time as me because of his sudden stillness and labored breathing.

We just stood there, melting into one and savoring our falling climax. Neither of us said a word. Maybe it was because it was too hard to say words after so much exhaustion.

Or maybe it was because in a moment like this, silence was better. What was already there could not be put into words. Words aren’t needed in order to feel.

That, to me, means so much more.  

 

~~~

 

My biological timer woke me up extremely early, the sun not even greeting me yet. I always randomly awaken at different times at night for no reason. In my delusional morning state, I thought I had to get up and ready for my shift.

Wait. No work today. Thank goodness. I don't think I've ever been more grateful for an off day to sleep, considering what happened last night.

Last night. The night I lost my virginity. Throughout my years as a prepubescent teenager, my imagination ran wild and I always anticipated my first time to be really raunchy like it is in porn or so intense that I couldn't walk for a week.

Out of all the dirty fantasies that I thought up, a coffee shop supply closet never came into the picture.

The comforter rested across my abdomen, my naked upper body exposed as I laid on my back. My eyelids felt heavy, but I couldn’t get myself to fall back asleep. However, I was not going to get out of bed and start my day at five in the morning.

It was then that I heard a soft tapping on the glass door. I ignored it for the first few minutes, thinking that it was just a bird. But the sound continued and got progressively louder than a bird’s beak could do. I craned my neck up and squinted my eyes to see across the dark room.

“Mister Aoba?” a muffled voice asked.

 _What the hell was he doing here?_ Did he seriously sneak out of his own house to come here? It almost scared me a bit to hear his voice; I was already pretty nervous from the unknown tapping noise. Now he was back again on my balcony. As my vision adjusted, I could see his figure. The strange part was he wasn’t wearing his usual attire. There was no coat, no gloves, not even any boots. And there was no mask.

“Clear, is that you?”

“Yes, Mister Aoba. May I come in?”

I propped myself up on my forearms, my raspy voice grunting. “Um, sure.”

The door smoothly glided sideways, a rush of wind permeating my room. He stepped in and closed the door behind him. He grinned at me. “Hello.”  
“Hey. Why aren’t you at home?”

“I wanted to see you, Mister Aoba.” By then, he had made his way to my bedside, kneeling down so I could hear his soft tone. “I did not want to be alone.”

I could feel my heart pinch with pity. He must feel like this often. Now that I’ve entered his life, I was the only thing keeping him from feeling like he was in solitude. Taking hold of one side of the sheets, I pulled them back, emptying up some space. My fingers curled a strand of his hair behind his ear, petting it gently. “Come here.”

He blinked a few times, then crawled onto the mattress and laid next to me. I grabbed the abandoned sheets and flung them over his body so that he was covered up like I was.

“There. How’s that?”

“It’s...good, Mister Aoba.” His beaming smile slowly took shape, and I couldn’t help but join in. We must have read each other’s minds because we both snaked our around one another at the same time, tugging our bodies closer. Naturally, my head nuzzled under his chin to compensate for Clear’s taller stature. I hadn’t noticed before, but Clear was surprisingly very warm in body temperature. Although my room was always hot, I didn’t mind him being a radiator.

“Mister Aoba?”

“Yeah?”

“What is forever?”

I puckered my lips at the question, unsure as to what he meant. It was a pretty random question just like the universe thing he preached to me about. The only thing I could come up with was a dictionary-like definition. “It means...eternal. Perpetual. You know, always.”

Clear let out a small sigh at first and didn’t respond. His chest rose and fell at a rhythmic pace, lulling me back to sleep. I thought he was done speaking, so I closed my eyes.

His mellow voice spoke once more.

“Then I guess my forever is you, Aoba.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I guess it is.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANNOUNCEMENT!!!  
> You've probably guessed that Mink's route is coming up next. However, I have like zero ideas for him. So I've decided to do a little contest.  
> I need your help! If you have an idea for Mink's route then comment below, or if you'd like to private message me, send me an ask at sonictheheichou.tumblr.com/ask. You can include a plotline, what his character is, etc.  
> The winner of the idea I choose will get special recognition :)  
> Thank you all for your cooperation. Best of luck to everyone!


	5. Update (Author's Note)

I can't believe I found my old ao3 writings from a year ago! I completely forgot about it because of my life becoming increasingly busy. A horrible and age-old excuse, but school wears on me...  
I guess it was also because that was when I was really into Dmmd. But even though I'm not actively in the fandom per say, I think it's my duty to finish this thing! I want to get back into writing. So I'll be reading those comments and scrap up something. You've all submitted some good thoughts! As I look at them, I don't think I'll be able to pick just one. Can i pick you all?! Not even sure what the prize was, oops... I'll figure it out o3o  
Again, I'm terribly sorry for being one of those writers that leaves people hanging for so long. I know what that's like to painstakingly wait for someone to update. And this is my promise! It may take some time due to length. By the way, #hellamilk is from my tumblr url way back when. I am now honeybunprincess.tumblr.com. If you want to get a hold of me, tag #honeybunprincess!  
Thanks again for the support, y'all. Much love <3


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